Coulda woulda

Could’ve been’s, 

The worst kind of torment; 

Since you know deep down,

Or not that deep at all-

It could have been and wasn’t

Because you weren’t enough. 

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Aghhhh, or something more composed and brave.

So, I’ve been completely rubbish at keeping this blog up to date, due to several things, not least of which, is that my department was all put on notice for redundancy a while back.

And my flat was put up for sale by my landlord.

And…well you get the idea. All change at the Emma will be OK Corral.

I have managed to bag a new job which I start at the start of the new term in August, which will see me working as a PA and also in term time only (shush I don’t want to jinx it). Different hours, different location, different energy completely, so I have gone on a mini mission to get fit to face such challenges with a clear head and a size ten trouser suit. As you do.

I chopped off my hair. As you do.

I invested in a NutriBullet and a Leuchtturm1917 Journal to achieve body and brain optimal results, and so far so good. I am loving my smoothies and have lost 8 lb so far, and though I’ve only just received my new journal today, I already feel my brain sighing with relief because of it’s mere existence and proximity.

Can I swap Yoga for Bullet Journalling? I’m sensing I’ll get more peace of mind from it.

My creativity has slowed down, though I am still writing, and I’m hoping once I’m settled and less uncertain financially and secure in a new place (having a dog is akin to running a crack den according to letting agents) that I’ll be back on track.

Sail, Or

This ache it’s like the ocean,
So vast, as it ebbs and it flows;
I chase pretty eyes that spin pitiless lies
& drown to the sound of “she knows”.

What I crave is a ship carved from giants,
& a map only plotted in stars;
Pirates and monsters and bullion,
A history worth all these scars.

Oh my heart is a midnight struck soundly,
& my eyes show the truth of that blow;
My compass it’s needle spins wildly
As I struggle – to stay or to go.