drizzle

Today I got news that I've been shortlisted for the NHB interview! Did a little jiggly celebration dance whilst still on the phone because of complete happiness.

Later it rained really heavily and my mood suddenly plunged. I couldn't explain it I felt like I had wasted my whole day and also like I was caged up and also like I couldn't breathe. Reading didn't help, and I didn't get through more than 3 pages of great house before I put it down because I knew I wasn't respecting the book in the way that it should be respected - I was reading to find relief and of course I found none because my I-need-to-be-relieved state of being meant I could not read.

I did a lot of pacing, and took in the washing. Strangely, I only found relief when I began to sort through all my old A level books and notes, watching an increasing pile of papers build up next to my brothers' mattress. I threw out most of my GP and Econs (except the stuff I'm giving to juniors/Emily), but kept most of my history because I want to read it again.

I needed to cook dinner for my family after that, so I went to cut up the broccoli and the carrots and onion, feeling increasingly tightly wound up as I did so because I felt like I didn't have enough time to finish preparing everything on time. I called Tim to help me put the rice in the rice cooker, but in the process he spilled rice all over the floor and so I told him to let me do it and swept that up and then put the rice on, fretting and fretting that I wouldn't be able to complete everything on time.

I don't know why all that mattered so much. I was so adamant that it had to be done by 7 on the dot, and the thought that I might only be done at 7.15 or later just filled me with horrible horrible unease.

I put the broccoli in to roast, the carrots and onion to stew, and the rice in the rice cooker, and all I had left to tackle was the fish, which is something I've never cooked before.

I quickly marinaded it in some lemon juice, salt and pepper, and then heated some oil in a pan and put the fish piece in to pan sear. It took so long to cook through and my anxiety was mounting with every 5 minute interval and so the minute the first piece was done I rushed to put the second and third pieces on together, and the water on them caused the oil to spit violently onto my skin.

That was the last straw and I just burst into tears and went onto the balcony, hung out the washing again, all the while mumbling incoherent things like 'stupid fish' and 'why did that fish have to die, it should be swimming in the ocean, this is why I'm vegetarian', 'now I'm going to have scars', and 'life is so unfair'.

After I had finished crying and was just left in the shudder-y half sob-gulp state that follows tears, I felt so much better. That spring that had been so tightly wound within me had finally unwound. When Dad came in he gave me a big hug and pronounced the fish delicious. When Mum came in I rested my chin on her shoulder, she pronounced the carrots first-class.

The storm always passes.