All throughout Sunday and Monday, I had a period of silence; I texted whomever texted me, and with the exception of a couple of texts on Monday, that was it. I didn't talk to anyone until they talked to me. This does make for a lonely time, of course, until someone says something to you. I was fortunate that on Sunday, I got a text from the lovely Miley Cyrus, and for seven hours we kept a conversation going about friends and stuff like that. At the same time, I was reading The Thin Executioner (review). It kept me going through the day. It was actually a pretty good day, after that. I remember going to bed happy.
The next day, I wasn't so happy. Having discovered I wouldn't be seeing a friend, whom I haven't seen in about three and a half weeks and hadn't heard from in a few days, either, I got myself a bit down. I didn't text anyone, then. I stopped replying to Miley to stop myself moaning to her the entire day and getting her down. Paper Towns (review) arrived at twelve. I read that, to keep me going. I got through the entire thing that day, in between a couple of texts to see what, exactly, I might be able to arrange with the ever-distant friend. In short: nothing. He didn't reply. I sent him a long, bitchy email about it. I finished Paper Towns, texted him again.
Three things: one, sorry for being such an arse earlier. Two, I've sent you an email that I still don't really understand but I know I still want you read. Three, I read the most amazing novel ever today, and I think I understand things a whole lot better now
I didn't get a reply, and I didn't expect one. I went to bed thinking about hunting down paper towns.
I awoke at three in the morning. I was tired. Very tired. Three hours sleep. That was all I'd gotten. I was awake until six, thinking about something. Just thinking and planning. Like Margo Roth Spiegelman. I love Margo Roth Spiegelman. So I planned, like Margo, to go somewhere. I knew my itinerary, once I knew when I was having dinner; I left my house early in the morning..ish. I got a quarter past eleven train with an Eason bag in my hand, containing a not-birthday present and a brown envelope filled with the necessary explanations of crazy, and my novella.
I walked to his workplace; I had my plan, but I didn't have a car to speed things up. I hurried around the industrial estate, looking desperately for where he worked so I could hurry back to the city centre for lunch. I eventually asked a man at a taxi place - because taxi drivers know where everything is - and found the place. Closed. Yeah, they'd just moved a few days ago.
That was it, I thought. I'd come all that way for nothing. Except... "Are you looking for [insert name of company here]?" It was one of the employees. He had the van behind him. He had a pony tail and a friendly face, and he explained that they'd moved, and where they'd moved to, and asked did I know how to get there. No, I told him. I didn't say I'd gotten the train, that I couldn't drive, and that I was in a big hurry. He gave me directions. I was still a little lost. Eventually, I just asked if he could deliver the Eason bag.
And he did. He took it from me and drove off. Sorted. I walked to the train station again. There was nobody else there. No staff, no commuters. It was silent. There was no info on when the next train was coming. I was in the middle of nowhere, the only back arse of Dublin, and I had no way of getting home. No one but Miley Cyrus and Pony-Tail Man knew I was in the area.
I waited. What else could do? I just waited, and waited, and waited. Eventually the train came. I was already late for lunch. I had already deferred the question of where I was and how long I'd be. I had no idea how long I'd be, when I first got the text. The train brought me back to the city. I finally had my lunch.
Then Miley texted. Could she meet up? Of course she could! We hung out. Adventureland Day 3. We headed towards Stephen's Green. I had just said to her to text our friend who I'd tried to visit, when the TARDIS began to call out. The TARDIS is my ringtone. I know, utterly nerdy. I didn't recognise the number, but I knew who it was.
The package had been delivered. I'd asked him to call when he'd gone through everything. It was in a letter of explanation in the brown envelope. I'd written it between half four and ten to five that morning, then rewrote it much neater writing, and with a fancy pen. He called me crazy, twice, in two different ways. He could write a book if he wanted if he can manage to not repeat himself in conversation. I was impressed, and laughing. He was stuffed away under a table. Literally under a table. He had three computers, two screens, over 100 ports and, if you'll excuse my French, a shit load of cables. He had to try figure out what went where. And he had no windows. Not the comptuer programme. He literally had no windows. He couldn't see what sort of day it was outside. He wasn't missing much. It was overcast.
I bought Strange Days, the album by The Doors, and a Jim Morrison poster. I was happy. I was estatic, actually. I'd gotten a phone call, and when I got home, I discovered that I'd also gotten a reply to my really long email. A really cool reply. I won't post it here. It's more fun keeping it to myself. My train had left the station four minutes before I received the reply, so I didn't get until later. That and the phone call and the meeting up with Miley - they made my day. It. Was. Amazing.
But I was still very tired. Sure, I now had the musical awesome that is Strange Days playing, and we got pizza in for dinner, but that didn't make up for the fact that I woke at three and fell asleep shortly after six, only to wake again shortly before eight. Even as I write this, after at least eight hours sleep, I'm tired. I'd let myself worry too much beforehand. Still, it's all turned out for the best. I think... Unless he really thinks I'm crazy. But he wouldn't have called if he didn't want to be friends. S'all good in the hood.
Yeah... that was three really strange days. Today is recovery day. I'm tweeting again, blogging again, responding to comments again, leaving things on Facebook again, texting again, not calling anyone unless I need to because I'm low on credit, but that's it. I'm back in touch with the world, after lots of silence and lots more craziness.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some tea to make and drink. I reckon five-seven cups today should help...