soul lethargic

that's what it is. I am so unbelievably tired inside, it feels like a deadening. Pete and I had a wonderful conversation today, blinking into the sunshine on city beach. just like we used to. that man has charisma enough to sell and I love him, but fuck me he is lost. and at the same time i completely understand him. Except he externalises what he feels and I don't.
But I am unbelievably sick of the current situation. Tired of it to my marrow (so why don't I just do something about it, you ask)...
today started badly and continued in the same vein. What Pete and i talked about (among other things is this)... why, when i know, fully truly understand how lucky I am, and how I have everything really, that I need for a good life. Why can't I appreciate it? Why am I miserable? Why do I have the Tesco blues again?
And I do. I don't know if it's hormonal (and that's a whole other infuriating contraceptive story) but it's not good. And today, when the 'don't worry about the kitchen I'll do it later' story fell through once more, I could have stabbed him. At the very least I could have screamed. I resorted to making potato salad instead and looking forward to beach time, alone together.

We met Pete and Betty down there, with Emese, their housemate and we did have a lovely time. Betty and I stole a previous 20 minutes and crossed the border of rocks to the next beach and sat down to chat. The strength inside that woman amazes me.

I attempted writing today, but the panic puts such a block in my system that I managed three pages, and not much quality at all.
My skin is pinched by the sun, and I feel full up with light but it's totally squashed by being inside the little box. What really amazed me is that Peter utterly echoed my thoughts when he said he hates weekends more than weekdays. Where did we learn ungratitude?