In her book Hotel du Lac, Anita Brookner’s central character, Edith Hope, at the end of the working day, always showers and changes out of the ‘simple cotton dress’ she wears to write in. It’s a kind of metaphorical, as well as an actual, cleansing away of the day’s toil. I feel the same, though for me the grubbiness I feel then is inner, not outer that no bath or change of dress can alter or wipe clean. It’s a sort of self-disgust. We talked of it yesterday. Is it a throwback to childhood, as so many things are? Of not being or at least feeling valued? Possibly. If so, I can change it. I can slough it off. But it’s hard. Particularly then when tiredness dogs my spirits. Perhaps acceptance is better. Possibly follow Billie Holiday’s example with her “Good Morning, Heartache, ” greeting. Why not? “Good evening, morbidity.” As the Welsh would say, “Ows it goin?”
