I have been without a mobile phone now, for what seems like an eternity but is probably just a couple of weeks and I have actually done very well, even if I do say so myself! As I’m sure most people can imagine already, when my phone first broke I panicked! How would I let anyone know anything, how would I check Twitter, how would I receive the important emails I was surely suddenly going to start getting?! However, once I resigned myself to the fact that my phone had passed on, I have to say, the grieving process was pretty short. The freedom is glorious! I never conceived just how much I’m annoyed by phone calls and texts all day! I mean, I did used to leave my phone at home frequently because of low battery, and always enjoyed the break – yet I never realised I would be this happy to be free of my old little electronic buddy.
Apart from all of that, I received my laptop (A million thank you’s to Sarah for getting this for me – I can’t thank you enough!), so I haven’t been totally Internet starved. I have been working on the plot outline for the book I’m writing, and researching bits and pieces connected to it. I expected to find all of that enjoyable, however I’m suffering from “The White Dragon”, a phrase I picked up from Vivien Reis in her YouTube video “How To Permanently Defeat Writers Block“, which describes writers block. I watched quite a few of Vivien’s video’s and found them inspirational and helpful, I feel ready to begin again. One of my problems is that I used to write every day, even if it was rubbish, I wrote. This helped me because as I was writing all the time, I wrote all of the crap that I hated, but I also wrote all of the things that I really wanted to get out onto paper… or, er, the screen.
The most crazy thing that happened to me this week was that I found a dead body. Okay, so he turned out not to be dead, but up until the point where I found that he was a sleeping drunk person, I really did believe I’d found a dead body. I knew it in my heart. And I was terrified. I’m actually pretty ashamed of how I reacted at first, if I’m being honest. I’d like to say that I rushed to the mans side, heroically ready to administer (my limited knowledge of) CPR with intrepid poise. This did not happen. This really did not happen.
I was leaving the house, so that I could go to the cash-point for my mother. It was particularly cold that night, so I had my huge fluffy animal print coat on. The collar on the coat is quite big, and it kind of obscured my vision as I closed the front door and noticed something in the street to my right… Next to a car, was what looked like a pile of bags… I thought that was strange and continued on to the cash point. As I was walking home, I could see down the street to the “pile of bags” next to the car, and as I got nearer I realised with more and more certainty that it was, in fact, a person. By the time I got to the front door I knew for sure it was a person. The worst part is, that from where I was stood, it looked like a man on the floor, with a bicycle tire sort of around his neck and head. The second I knew it was a person, I froze.
I tried to see if the man was breathing, but couldn’t tell. I stepped closer, my hand on my phone in my pocket… then realised I had no phone. At that point, I was sure he was dead and there was a gory sight awaiting me should I step any closer. Instead of going to help him, I went back inside and got my mums phone, telling her quickly, “I need your phone… I think there’s a dead body outside.” I heard her questioning me, “WHAT??” as I walked calmly back outside. I tried to walk up to him a few times, each time coming back to the front door, thinking about what I should have been doing. My mum had made her way to the front door, and I jumped out of my skin when I turned and saw her the first time, I was so on edge. Eventually, it must have taken me about 5 minutes to make the 3-second walk, to where he was lying… It was like something out of a horror film. A cold, silent, night… Woman on her own, in a dark street and next to a dark, spooky, ancient grave yard! I slowly approached his body, calling out “Hello? Are you okay?” My heart thumping loudly in my ears, holding my breath, the suspense building… I was about a foot away from where he lay, when the loudest snort I have ever heard, jumped out of his body. Snoring. He was fast asleep on the pavement, snoring.
Relieved, I gently tried to wake him up, having to become considerably less gentle to finally actually wake him. He was mumbling and seemed surprised to see me. I took his arm and gently pulled, helping him up off the ground, the sickly smell of alcohol emanating from him as he staggered to his feet. We joked a little about how he had been having such a peaceful sleep, and it was a shame to wake him. I picked up his phone and cigarettes from the floor, handed them back to him, and walked with him a little down the street… He stopped for a conversation with my mum before eventually making his way off into the night.
I was just so ashamed of myself for not going to help him the second I saw him, though. At first I was convinced that there would be a gory scene and I was overwhelmed with the fear of the sight I might be haunted with afterwards. How selfish is that? Even once I realised he wasn’t physically hurt, I was worried he might attack me once awake, so that also held me back! I feel bad I didn’t rush to help him, once I realised he was a person instead of a pile of bags. What if he had been physically hurt? I would have been useless! Hopefully if something like this happens again, I’ll react a little faster!
Anyway, I’m tired, I’m coming down with a head cold, and I need to sleep. Hopefully tomorrow I will get some writing done. I need to lock the first chapter down, really. Maybe my dreams will give me some inspiration! Goodnight!