Shakespeare's Birthday Resolutions

 It is a most sacred of days. It's Shakespeare's birthday today. 

I'm putting this post down to last night's insomnia. Staying with Jay, I went to bed at 10.30 p.m. after a BIG day, finally dropping off to sleep at 3.30 a.m. 

It gave me a lot of time to think. 

So, Shakespeare died at 52. We don't know how he died, he just did. He's buried in Stratford-Upon-Avon, where he warns people not to piss around with his grave. 

After yesterday's adventures, and while I was trying to get cool, get some air, get comfortable and stop seeing faces (thanks, Fentanyl) my mind set about trying to put my life to rights. After all, what do you do when you have five hours of thinking time and a desire to go nowhere near a screen?

So what I came up with in this post-anaesthetic haze is that I need to make Shakespeare Resolutions. After all, I'm 52. Same age as Shakespeare at his peak.

Time to make a Shakespeare pact with myself. 

In my five hours of insomniac thought, it came to me that I want some big changes in my life. It's time to get serious with myself. And after all, in the words of the Bard, “Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting.”(Henry V).

And I came up with the following:

Health:

This little bit of surgery yesterday came as a bit of a wakeup call. On the good side of things, my bloods came back perfect in check, thankfully not infected with any nasty STDs, low cholesterol and great iron levels. I need to get the biopsy results, but the initial findings are good. Still, I'm over weight, and it's time to do something about this. So this is my first challenge. Get this in check. I'm strong and fit. It's time to build on this. My birthday is in seventeen weeks. I want to see what can be done. You can do a lot in four months. 

Writing: 

Some validation came yesterday as a very well respected editor came back to me about the 10000 words I flicked over to her a few months ago. Her email read, "I’ve read your extract now and can see you’re a good writer and there’s much potential." I'm not quite what her publishing house goes for, not quite high lit enough, but it was validation on a grand scale. And a major kick up the arse. It's time that It's Time got written. I owe this to myself. I owe this story to the world. 

Relationships: 

This is a bit of a hard one to admit to. Five months out of a long term, albeit long distance relationship there's a part of me that actually wants a real relationship. You know, a proper one where you do things together, have fun, laugh, enjoy each other's company. One of those relationship. One that makes you happy. I want one of them. I have no idea how this is done, or where to start, and the thought of internet dating terrifies me more than going under anaethetic, facing a room full of huntsman spiders and open water, but I want this for me. I'm putting it out there. 

Work:

My day job is fine, but I want to step up a bit. I've been cruising too long. It's good for the self-esteem. 

Okay, it's a bit of shift in focus, but maybe focussing on what I really want - to be a published author, fit, healthy, happy, is that too much to ask? Is it bad to want to feel more comfortable in my body? Absolutely not. It is bad to actually want to be in a loving relationship? No. (I think this hit home over the last week having to rely on friends to look after me after surgery - I would do this for my friends, but I hate asking - it would be great to have somebody there who does this for you - and you don't have to ask).                                                                                  

Anyway, I'm all fired up. I want this boot up the bum to bear fruit. 

Today's Song: