In my last post on this blog, which was written almost two months ago, I stated that while I hadn’t posted anything for about a month, I was ‘getting back into it’1. That was overly optimistic.
Apparently lack of motivation is a common symptom of depression, and although I doubt I have clinical depression I have certainly had a lack of motivation to do much of anything over the last three months. I suspect it all stems from the fact that after the roadtrip1 on which we embarked after having settled on the sale of our house of 32 years, we ended up in a serviced apartment. While such accommodation can be quite pleasant, this wasn’t, and accommodation was a bit hard to come by at the time, so we were largely stuck with it. This apartment was on the second floor and overlooked a bus depot, so all day you could hear buses idling or the beep-beep-beep of them reversing into a parking bay. We were in that apartment from the middle of September until the end of October (i.e. about 6 weeks). To say this place was spartan was an understatement. It had three of everything; dessert spoons, knives, forks, teaspoons, soup bowls, dinner plates, mugs, tumblers. It also had a large, fairly blunt knife, a small serrated knife with a bent tip, and a couple of other utensils. At least the shower recess wasn’t dangerous as in other places in which we stayed on our roadtrip1. As I had a book to edit, I extracted my desktop computer from the storage unit we hired, so I could continue working. Even that started to pall, despite it being something that I would usually attack with a fair amount of enthusiasm.
That six weeks was broken up by a short four day trip to stay with friends down near Merimbula on the New South Wales south coast. When we got back from this trip, the screen door onto the balcony had fallen off its runners. We reported this to the reception; nothing happened. We reported it twice to the service staff who cleaned the apartment; nothing happened, and when we left the place it was still lying at an angle against the balustrade where it fell. It may still be there.
After that awful place we eventually moved to a pleasant Airbnb in a leafy older suburb, which is cheaper, and has more stuff than we actually needed. This is where I write this. However, it is still temporary accommodation, and I suspect that is the depressing factor. Our new unit is very nearly getting its certificate of occupancy, which will, after settlement, allow us to pick up the keys and move in. That is likely about two weeks away. It cannot come soon enough.
Source
I’ve missed you.