Back home now, exhausted and feeling low. After four days with no space from people, working a job I didn't know how to do in a team of experienced professionals, sharing hotel rooms, sharing all mealtimes, I was craving locking myself in my room and being alone. Craving not having to act in any particular way, not having to stay busy, just getting to pull my boots off and unbutton my tight work trousers and collapse.
But as soon as I did that I felt myself deflate. It’s like I unzipped the politeness and niceness and good mood that I was wearing because I had to, and what was left underneath was nothing, just blankness.
Oh I don’t feel good. Crappy and tired and irritable and goopy. I’ve not gone out for food, we had a big lunch and I can’t be bothered to eat anything else. I’ve sat and looked on the Internet, watched Killing Eve on iPlayer, which everyone was banging on about on Radio 2 every time we were in the van, that and Bodyguard, which I’ve not seen either, but that one is now is so popular that I hate it on principle, and Killing Eve sounded the more interesting of the two. I’ve watched two episodes now, and I like the characters, I like the actors, I like the moments of verisimilitude juxtaposed with the more outlandish elements, but the narrative isn’t wholly gripping me so far. It’s silly, I’m not sure I believe it, and at its core it’s not much different from a million other cat-and-mouse agent-and-criminal stories. But then maybe I just don’t like it because I’m feeling depressed and I don’t like anything when I’m feeling depressed.
Meh. Not got anything else tonight. Maybe another episode and then a big sleep will help. Back at the pub tomorrow. Gash.
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