You Can Call Me El

Last weekend we went to Norfolk and stayed by the sea. My whole family was there and some family friends too and Marc, of course, and it was like being in another life. The entire week beforehand I was in a state of fear and stress. It just seemed ridiculous that we would be allowed to go. I was certain we would contract Covid that week and not be able to, or that something would happen to stop us. I just didn’t think it would happen. Note, please, that there was nothing concrete in our way; it’s not that I was worried about the train being cancelled, which could have happened, or missing it, or not being ready in time. It was nothing very specific. I just thought the universe would conspire to stop us from getting there. I think this is because I think I’m not allowed nice things . And I’m wondering if part of this might be because it’s been so many months without nice things that I can’t remember what it’s like to have them? Or that I just don’t think I’m allowed? Let me ex...

Written on Wednesday 17th June Hi pals, guess who it is! Your favourite (surely) anxious bitch! I keep coming back to this blog only when I feel like shit! What’s that about! I guess it doesn’t give a very representative idea of what my life is like at the moment, but then who wants that anyway??? Let’s curate this shit!!  Yes this is a weird energy, I know. I’m currently in a new phase of anxiety, which I thought was worth mentioning because it’s an interesting one. It doesn't happen that often but when it does it sure is fucking annoying! The phase is this: I Feel Anxious But I’m Also Furious About It.  For the sake of comparison, usually it’s more like, I Feel Anxious And I’m Too Scared To Do Literally Anything. Usually there’s a bit of anger in the mix as well, at the fact that it’s stopping me from doing Literally Anything, but it’s too buried under all the helplessness and fear and certainty of death, so it makes a change.  The furious phase is, I’d say,...

It's hard to write something without a satisfying narrative. For a proper story, you want a beginning, a middle and an end. For example: first I felt okay. Then I felt terrible for a while. But then, after lots of trials and tribulations, by the end I felt better. This is what stories should look like.  The trouble is, real life usually doesn't have a satisfying narrative. This is why I stand by my theory that films based on real events are often in some way disappointing. Consider the Sound of Music. It'll surprise no one to hear that we watched it numerous times when I was growing up, and it was a formative part of my childhood. But, there was an issue. The happy ever after wedding scene was, for some reason, in the middle of the film! This must have been some sort of error. Instead of finishing there, the film continued with some awkward, unnecessary singing of Edelweiss again , the family singing in front of a gigantic crowd for literally ages, and lots terrifying cre...

There’s an interesting tension between the wish to do something and the wish to do nothing. I’ve been thinking a lot about how appealing it is, when you’re busy and stressed, to dream of a time when you have nothing to do. Thinking about finally putting your feet up, watching endless TV or films, the trashy kind you’ve seen before, playing computer games, lying around. I think lying around is the main thing, really. It’s the main component part to chilling . But… is the dreaming about it nicer than the doing it? I have a guilty secret, which is that I was glad to be put on furlough. I felt close to burning out in January and February, and I wanted to do something about it but didn’t. I’d just started a new job and was worried about asking to take time off and I didn’t know if I’d have the confidence. And then I was furloughed, and I was handed the time and space I needed to rest and think and recover. Or this is how it might have felt, if it hadn’t been prompted by a pandemi...

Hi friends. It’s me, Eleanor. Long-term fans of me will remember this blog from my third year of university. That’s right! I spent a year abroad as an English Language Assistant in Chemnitz, Germany, and I kept a blog every week, and I’ve revisited it today for the first time in five (5) years. [1] And now here we are on 22 nd April 2020, in London, England, the world. By my count, this is week 5 of enforced working from home, and about a month since lockdown officially started. Hope things are going well!!!! I was moved to sit down and write this today for a couple of reasons. I will lay them out for you here: Number One : As of yesterday, I am on furlough and I don’t have any work to do apart from domestic labour such as keeping the flat clean and tidy, which because of Feminist Reasons I’m not fucking doing, even though it would actually make sense for me to do it because my sweet boyfriend is still working full-time/breadwinning as we speak. (“I’m not your litt...