Wednesday 28th July.
The Doctor is not on board. The girls are in bed. I have a rare moment to myself, completely alone (except for those two girls in bed). My miserable monologue is even taking a break, so I have a bit of peace and quiet to just stare at the sun setting over the field. I think sometimes perhaps, in my mind, I am too hard on The Doctor. I expect too much of him. Our lifestyle geographically isolates us from our friends and so I depend on him for most of my emotional needs. While I’m on maternity leave I don’t even socialise with other humans at work, so it’s just me, my monologue, the girls and The Doctor. Perhaps by blogging I can deflect some of the monologue’s misery away from The Doctor and out into the cosmos to join up with other miseries and dissipate into the misery sea. At the moment I am typing up my hand written diaries with the idea to post them as a blog – when we’re moored in a place that I can get mobile internet access. At the moment I am just over a month behind myself, that is I’m currently typing up what I wrote a month ago. This has the effect of a kind of time travel. As I type, I relive the thoughts that I had a month or two ago and see what has changed, how I feel and what I was thinking of.
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