La justice reparatrice

Funny how ‘restorative’ in French (fortifiant or remontant) means giving back vigour or health: a tonic. I was going to say ‘le rétablissement judiciare’ – re-establishment of justice, but reparative justice seems to be the phrase du jour. I hope the justice I get this afternoon does restore me! I need a little bit of a tonic.

I think I hit the wall yesterday. This is a marathon runner’s term for when you are at about 19 – 21 miles in, and your mile takes you twice as long as your usual mile. You feel like you can’t go on. You want to stop. The end feels as far away as the beginning, and you can’t see the point. You question why you’re doing it. Every part of you aches and you tell yourself you’re punishing yourself needlessly, that you could have a more simple life. It hurts, physically and mentally.

My problem was I hit the wall on lots of things yesterday. I hit it with my marking: 270 scripts in out of 500 – it’s a little early, but it’s all downhill from 400 onwards. I hit the wall with the whole ‘France thing’ wondering what the point was and how we’re going to get through. We’re so unbelievably poor right now it’s untrue. It seems ages off to my marking payment. I didn’t even really have a fiver to lend Jasmin. I’m filling us up on cheap starch and crying inside every time Jake drinks a glass of milk since it’s costing us more than squash (growing boys, LJ, growing boys…) and worrying I’m stunting his growth by cutting back on meat for him. Steve’s had it up to the eyeballs with pasta and rice, though potato salad seems to restore him to his former self. I wonder how long that will last??

I hit the wall with how long I’ve got left, what I’m going to do with the house, how we’re going to get everything over to France, how we’ll cope… I feel like I’m holding all of us up and it could all come falling down at any minute. I just want it to stop for a bit and give me a break. Honestly, it’ll be easier with Steve in France. I won’t have to worry about him there. I can manage to feed Jake and live off spaghetti and tomatoes myself. That’s fine with me. I can’t do that to another human being, especially when it’s Steve. I can’t stop worrying about all the expense of living over there and keeping this house running here, because this house just isn’t selling.

I feel like punching my prospective buyers. If I had any morals, I’d tell them to get out, but I’m so desperate for an offer, I smile politely. They offer silly figures and hope I’ll accept. They never raise their price and I can’t afford to drop my asking price (and, neither should I! The last time a house sold around here for what they offer was back in 2002. Things just aren’t that bad!!)

So… the wall. I lay awake in bed thinking about it, stewing over things, worrying. I owe money left, right and centre. I’ve got my mortgage payment to make on Friday. I’ve got debt upon debt at the moment. I can’t see a way out. I know it’s there… when we’re in France, things WILL be easier. I can start looking for work. I can start advertising. It’ll be a tough winter, I know… we’ve not grown half the things we will need for the winter. But… I hope we can still manage.

So… how do I break through ‘the wall’? Just the same way I did in the marathon. Gritted teeth. Determination. A one-foot-in-front-of-the-other, one-movement-at-a-time approach. Focus on the end-goal. And the eye of the tiger…

I used to have my tracks set out for my marathon. I know, about 2:45 hours in, I’m going to need a bit of a boost, musically. This gives me a real ‘dig-in’ mentality. Is there anything better??!

As soon as I hear that gritty beat, slow but steady… I dig in, grit my teeth, suck it up, stop being mard and go for glory!

And then, it’s all downhill. My final song, round about 3:25 is this one…

Cheesy ice-hockey song. Still, it really picks up your feet that last half-mile. Sometimes, my mind is running so fast to this song, my poor old legs couldn’t handle it! I’d almost fall over. It was like putting rocket fuel in a robin reliant at that point.

Actually, thinking about it, the England team could have done with this before their match yesterday. Dismal performance. Dismal. So much, by the way, for my bet that England would face France. No chance!!

Anyway, because I love Jensen Ackles, because he is the most handsome man on the planet, and because I love the man laughing in the background, here’s Dean from Supernatural doing his take on The Eye of the Tiger:

I shall grit my teeth, dig in, suck it up and get tough for these last few days. Duh…. duh duh duh…. duh duh duh… duh duh duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh duh…. ad infinitum

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