Saturday Evening, 10pm
I knocked on Miss 19's bedroom door earlier this evening, and enquired if we were going running. Given that she was still in her pajamas, and that I was struggling to stay awake, I was half-hoping that she would murmur something about leaving it until tomorrow. Except she didn't – of COURSE she didn't, because the universe doesn't work that way. And that's how I found myself stepping out into the cold night air an hour later in running shorts and a reflective waterproof.
We always run in the dark of night. It has nothing to do with Batman, or being trainee ninjas – but everything to do with anxiety. The only way we can run is if nobody can see us (or rather, nobody can see her – she dresses in black running kit on purpose). I don't think she figured out that I changed the route tonight on purpose – taking us along a section of the main-road into town for a few hundred yards – in full view of all the traffic. Granted, the drivers probably couldn't see her, but we were still there – running past their cars. She didn't say anything, but it felt like a victory.
When we got home the younger girls had just finished making pizza, and were preparing to cook it – I took my cue to jump in the shower. And before you say it, yes, of course I know the pizza counter-acted any benefit the running may have imparted. So did the cider I drank while eating it.
So. It's Saturday night, 10pm. While some people's night is just getting going in the various pubs and clubs in town, I'm sitting in the dark of the junk room in a comfortable pair of old tracksuit bottoms and a scruffy t-shirt, typing this into the old computer. I'm doing my best not to annoy or offend anybody, after a spectacular foot-in-mouth moment earlier.
I think – sometimes – because I'm a bit of an open book, I tend to presume others are an open book too – and that's a mistake. The reality is probably that most people's lives are far more complex than we can even begin to imagine. As much as we like to think of ourselves as having empathy, or understanding, we don't live each other's lives – we don't walk in each other's shoes – so we can never really presume to know that much about each other. It's SO easy to make snap judgements, and yet we know they are usually wrong.
ANYWAY.
It's time to watch a movie before collapsing into bed. Maybe a hot chocolate might also be in order to erase the effects of the cider I drank earlier (which is now hanging from my eyelids like a comedy anvil).