Rational/Irrational

So. My landlord is selling the house I'm renting. I know my landlord through my work. Him and his Mrs are lovely people. I like them. I rented their house with my eyes wide open, aware that it was a short let. Everybody was happy. It's a cosy little mid-terrace cottage in a lovely little town in Oxfordshire. I like it. I've been happy inside these walls, even though the last few months have been a bit crap in other respects.

So. Last night the estate agent came round to do his final measurements and analysis before he put the ad in the paper. He was direct, indicating that - due to the compact living room - I should do a bit of decluttering. This was not news to me - in fact, I finished his sentence for him. It was obvious, and I was happy with the idea. So I've been doing that - I want to help these nice people sell their house, and I'm quite keen (truth be told) to find a bigger place, so I can get all my stuff out of storage. Landlord says he'll be round to clear up some of his stuff and do a bit of low-level DIY. That's all cool.

So. RATIONAL = I want to help, I don't mind putting my stuff in boxes, I want to move on. Everything's cushdie.

Today, I get home from work, and the door isn't double-locked, and the front room blind's up. The landlord's been, I suppose. Inside, the smell of Flash liquid and paint. The kitchen surfaces tidied, the clothes horse folded away. A note: all the stuff they've done. It's a long list.

So. I carry on with my box packing, working up a sweat as I carry boxes of books and CDs up the vertiginous, winding stairs and store everything away out of sight. I know my shoulders and arms will be aching in the morning. I become aware that I'm harbouring feelings of resentment.

So. IRRATIONAL = It feels like I've been burgled again - you know, that feeling of invasion/violation. I feel nagged, chivvied, criticised for my slovenliness. I feel resentful. I feel unwelcome all of a sudden. I want to leave NOW.

Which is all stupid of course, but some level/structure/structures of my brain is/are quietly insistent.

Now, I'm back to RATIONAL: my emotional response took over for a bit, those hypersensitive and insecure bits of my psyche that can so easily dominate my existence. I need to recognise them when they kick in, analyse them, stop them taking me off down a stupid route. And I've done that. But...will I ever get used to this grey lump of complexity between my temples? I've had 40+ years, and lots of the things it does are still a bit of a mystery to me...

S i d e w a y s

Have you been to see S i d e w a y s yet, like I told you to? No? Well, there's this scene where the beardy bloke - Miles - gets drunk in a restaurant, and goes and phones up his ex-wife, just so he can be bitter, and self-pitying, and venomous, and silent to her down the line. When he comes back to the table, his mate says "Did you just drink and dial?" If I ever "drink and type", and get embarrassing, you'll tell me, won't you? Won't you?

Thanks.