whinge

I promise I will stop whinging soon, but will you indulge me in one more self pity-fest?  Thank you.

After A left I remembered fairly quickly Scenes From A Single Life.  You know the kind of thing - responsible for 100% of everything, less money, more space, having to get the step ladder out to reach the top shelf in the kitchen, coming home late to a dark flat, cooking 1/4 of what I cooked before.  It was saddening, but I seemed to step back into it all as if it hadn't been four-and-a-half years.  I even cleared out the guttering with barely a scream when I discovered a spider among the leaves.

But then, on Saturday I was getting ready to go out and hauled an old dress out of the back of my wardrobe for the occasion.  A dress with a zip in the back.  I couldn't quite bend or twist or reach far enough to do it up, and instead of wearing something else instead, I dissolved into a sobbing mess at the end of the bed.  It took me almost an hour to get a grip on myself, thread a ribbon through the zip and do it up that way.  I guess you never know how or when grief is going to hit you.