Wealth and fame, he's ignored; action is his reward

I'm reluctant to post this for similar reasons to why I am sometimes eager to post something new. Sometimes I need to update more, otherwise my last past can seem like a lasting statement -- when it was merely a passing thought. Likewise, I don't yet want to shift the focus away from my last post (as lacking in actual substance as it was).

But just the same, I'm self indulgent enough to want to post today with little more than just bits, pieces and stuff.

Before I dive straight in, I wanted to counter-balance the last post and open up for discussion this piece: The remote Himalayan kingdom of Bhutan is the only country in the world which puts happiness at the heart of government policy.

I wrote -- posted, ranted -- a few weeks back about San's new-found interests with her new boyfriend, and while I didn't miss her or want her back, it grated on me. When I saw her last week and we'd both had enough to drink to just talk completely freely, I told her how I felt about it. She said it was about her trying to be a better, different, more interesting person that was inspiring her to do these things. She also mentioned that it must have been very difficult dating her, sometimes.

Less than two days later she texted me to tell me how she'd just been rock climbing. Unable to just be enthusiastic for her, I replied with "I'm sure my replacement is very proud of you". But I told her to ignore me, that I was just being jealous -- more jealous of her getting to go climbing, or of having a girl that would want to, than anything else.

Our contact is minimal during the week, here and there San complains about not having any work and I try and draw parallels to how much she hated her last job. I know the feeling, it's the same old dilemma of hating work, but also hating being out of work. Friday she emailed me -- with a message titled "Desperation" -- asking for my advice, since she was having no luck finding work. I chose not to take offence that one would have to be "desperate" to ask for my thoughts and advice, and offered what I could -- don't rely on temp agencies, look for work on your own in various places, and consider work experience. If you've not got any work you might as well do something constructive, since you're not being paid either way one will be slightly better than the other. Perhaps don't make it last 6 months like I did, but just the same it's a good idea.

Not dissimilarly, Jon has been asking me for advice recently. It's disarming for me, to be asked by Jon for advice -- he's charming, good looking, easy to get along with and generally well-liked, so it confuses me when he turns to me. This could link back to the Life Less Ordinary post and the slow realisation that followed it -- perhaps none of us are accurate judges of our own worth, or of our influence in other people's lives. It's always surprised me if Jon ever said he admired me -- or, like in this case, where he'd talk to me about his work and ask for advice. I'm hardly making a great success of my life (I frequently feel like an abject failure in most areas), and don't know what to say when he asks "What would you do, if you were me?". But perhaps he feels the same way, and has some distorted view of what he's really like.

Friday night, it was just gone 11 and I was preparing to leave the pub with my friends, when I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. It wasn't just the brief buzz of a message, but the sustained pulsing of a phone call -- I pulled out the phone, and San was calling. I don't know where she was, drunk in some club somewhere in London, but she'd decided she really wanted to call me and talk to me. We didn't talk for long, mostly because as I say she was drunk and hadn't seemed to really want anything and, before too long, people had come looking for her.

I wondered if she only called me because her boyfriend was out of town -- I remember her mentioning something like that earlier in the week. After she'd gone, I sent her a message to say thanks for calling me, it was nice to talk to her, and I jokingly said I knew she called me because nobody else was available. The following morning, I found a text message I'd received -- and apparently read -- at 1am, disputing it. It read: "Not even, I'm just drawn to you". Interesting.

In other news, I am continuing with the story. I am really just plagiarising every idea I have ever had or anything I've ever written, now basing one character's narrative style and personality on the fictional diary I used to keep. And if anyone is interested, I have decided that it is sun spot/solar flare activity that will be the cause of the highly-implausible reanimation of the dead.
But whatever, works, right?