Don’t mess with Mr Inbetween

Hello dear reader,

How’s things with you? Are you, like me, glad it’s Friday night? I know I am.

This week has been…. troubling. Not difficult or hard, but tricky. I have been – to use an English phrase – been occasionally swinging the lead, as my heart just wasn’t in it. When I can get lost in my work, that’s a good thing. Distractions melt away and I’m happily in the zone listening to people, thinking up solutions and trying to make things a little better.

But, when I can’t, I’m listening to the less-than-useful circular thought patterns. They’re like noisy planes stuck orbiting with no rush to land. Instead, they buzz and roar and generally get in the way. There are times, when it seems all their exhaust and dirty fumes is all I can hear.

Plane One is mostly filled with a cargo of worry. Worry around when will be the Next Time. It’s a mere two weeks between Chams meetings and yet, I feel a frisson of fear. Perhaps, due to a packed work diary, there’s no chance to work from home and express oneself, as it where, and bridge the gap. Plus, I know I’ll be missing two more meetings: one in late October and a second in November. This stack of petty worry seems, on the face of it, rather silly. Yet, I can feel myself straining at my male boundaries. The odd joke here and there, or stronger thoughts that I should Do Something to keep my trans side balanced.

Do Something seems a good name for Plane Two and if this was a sci-fi book by the late Mr Banks, it probably would be. (Ed: If you’ve not been reading the works of the late Ian M Banks, do give his works a spin. They are very good. There’s some minor references to gender shift within the Culture too). I find myself thinking about waxing my legs or other such ‘grand gestures’…. I should know now that this does not help. Why not? Because on one hand, I realise this would greatly upset the Ever Lovely Mrs J and then with the other hand, I feel the rue of knowing I’m stuck as I am. Hard place. Rock. Etc.

It feels – to plumb for another analogy – that my heart, head or soul, if you will, is a bucket. I can fill this bucket with rocks. Dull, heavy lumps of worry, like the ones above. Or, I can try and think positive: be happy that I’m not completely closeted, that there will be time again and – as I read in the news today – my life isn’t under threat because of who I am. Well, at least not yet. Not unless someone turns up the Nasty Party’s hate-machine up to dystopian levels that Mssrs Moore, Orwell and Huxley warned us of. But, that’s another rock in the bucket, if I give that too much thought….

So…. perhaps I need to – as the song said – Accentuate the Positive – and know that my (Lynn) time will come again. This is all temporary and that it’ll be better soon.

Cheery thoughts eh?



  1. The low spark of the high-heeled boys, huh?
    Hi Lynn. Know how you're feeling and sympathize. "Swinging the lead" (a nautical term for faking depth soundings – should have guessed) may be a bit harsh for what you're experiencing. It sounds less like active malingering (is that a tautology?) than going off the boil and losing drive and enthusiasm at work for a period. It happens. I get days like that when progress on a project I'm working on seems to stall in endless review meetings that fail to come to any conclusion. You lose enthusiasm, and the distractions (or the thing you're using work to distract you from) come creeping back in.

    Iain had a nice habit of naming some of his sf books from lines in The Wasteland. Actually 'Do Something' sounds more like a title for one of his non-sf novels (these are equally good, too). His Culture was the only sf utopia I've read that I wanted to live in. As for gender, there are dozens more sf books and stories that treat this as mutable or optional. There's even a specific award for GLBT-themed sf and fantasy. Maybe a topic for Susie to look at if she ever resurrects her blog.

    1. Yeah, caught up in 'Traffic' possibly 🙂

      Maybe it's swinging the lead, maybe it's just not being fully engaged. I can't quite put my finger on it. It's a lot like you say, in that there's a loss of enthusiasm and a disconnection if you will. It sometimes feels as if I've got more on my mind, than work. Which, in a way, I have.

      Perhaps 'Do Something' should be upgraded to 'Serious Regrettable Action'? 🙂 I'm with you on the Culture. It did sound like a beautiful life.

      If you do blog about other stories, I'd love to read that. No pressure tho 🙂

  2. I was going to post a link to the sunday service scene in The Singing Detective, but…

    "This video contains content from BBC Worldwide, who has blocked it in your country on copyright grounds."


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