In the Dark

Always dangerous to write a blog when you are in a bad mood but here we go...well perhaps sour is a better description than bad. It's been a while since i've done one....just haven't had the inclination to be honest as i'm not a natural writer of things really. Back to that aforementioned mood. It's like a sour feeling in the pit of the stomach basically...but it's been ongoing for a while now. Nothing has been particularly right in my thinking for the past few years now to be honest...and being honest i'm not really sure how i feel about a lot of things. I know i get angry...not outbursts like a couple of years back, more a sort of underlying, rumbling anger that is akin to background noise as much as anything. It's not really focused on anything in particular but it's there and it rankles. There's also this sense of detachment from things...like i'm in a kind of bubble at times. And yet i'm far from detached ...reality very definitely bites on a regular basis whether it's business related or stuff with the kids or niggling health issues.  In a way i'm pretty settled into the routine of being back at my fathers place...at times i annoy myself with wondering why i didn't make the move back sooner instead of frittering away rent to a stranger. Another reason for anger i suppose...there's nothing like a bit of self recrimination to get the juices flowing. The shop is a struggle...to put it mildly. Business is practically non existent at the minute and i see little prospect of an improvement. It's a bit like grinding along on the exposed axle...the tyres having long departed the scene. Running on Empty to quote Jackson Brown....though i'm sure he wasn't referring to a failing outdoor clothing business. Struggling to pay suppliers...thinning stock...lack of customers through the door...basically the slippery slope if i'm honest. Trudging on cos it's all i know and there's really no viable alternative...not really in the best frame of mind to engage with the increasingly demanding and obtuse consumer...what few there are of them. That contradictory feeling of being glad to see someone come in but also almost afraid to approach them in case you miss the sale. You can only understand that if you work in retail to be honest. But there it is. Standing in the shop these days trying to stave off suppliers baying for blood while putting on a brave face for the few visitors who do grace the place with their presence (mostly just lookers) is akin to mental torture frankly. Last week i had a couple of days running with no takings...not for the first time of late....something that would have been virtually unthinkable a few years back. Two ducks in a row is hard to stomach. On many days it is a struggle to do three figures. Yes you read that correctly. And it is not just me and not just here. I speak to enough retailers to know that. Things are dire...whatever anyone says publicly. Unless of course you are a coffee shop...or a funeral undertaker. I have not the capital to invest in the former nor the temperament for the latter. What to do?  Well i've no idea...at the minute i resemble a rabbit caught in the headlights of an approaching train...and i am rooted to the spot. The story of my life in some ways. I still cling to the hope that things will turn..that there will be a bit of an uplift...that some more of those FB likes will turn into actual sales...that the companies will be patient. All doubtful but we shall see.  At  present there is nothing to do but keep the head down and carry on...even if it continues to produce the same result. How depressing this is . And i still haven't even got to my sour mood. In truth it is as a result of something and nothing...a perceived sleight and of no real consequence. But these days it doesn't take much. When you are brittle the slightest touch can shatter you. I've learnt that the hard way so tend to avoid much contact. There are also several things which i am deliberately ignoring...they are not to be faced at the moment. I'm sitting in the dark here in the car waiting for my daughter to come out of her music lesson...too much time to think you see. Especially today. The mind wanders over things best left to posterity. I've learnt that no matter what you cannot really escape the past.....it may be another country but it's borders are too easily breached. Fingers of memory poke and prod at every piece of scar tissue, looking for a response that too often still comes. I'm not even sure anymore what lies beneath those scars...but i do know they are still raw enough. Perhaps i am angry because i can no longer take big sips of pain the way i once did....now there's just this vague sense of unease and..well loss i suppose. Perhaps i should be grateful it's not as keenly felt. Or as all pervasive. Somehow though it doesn't work that way. Pain is a blunt instrument at times.

I will upload this shortly. And trudge on.