“Half of what I say is meaningless,/But I say it just to reach you”

– Julia, The Beatles

A job agency emailed asking if it could put me up for a job that is ridiculously short-term (one month), terrible pay, boring and far below the intellectual and professional level where I should be working.  It’s a library assistant rather than assistant librarian – very big difference as the latter needs professional training at Masters level or equivalent and the former requires no training at all.  It’s essentially just shlapping (moving) books and relabelling them.  I very much doubt that it could lead on to something bigger.  The scary thing is, I’m was almost tempted to go for it because I’m desperate.  Plus I don’t want to upset the agency by turning jobs down.  Get on your bike, etc.  But I think it will send the wrong message if I put it on my CV.  I will look downwardly mobile.  I sent another application for a law library job, which I was rather lukewarm about, but other than that, I’m out of options at the moment.  Aside from the interview next week, there’s nothing looking promising in the pipeline.

I had to buy a new phone today.  I wanted to change contract, although the new one is not really any better, but the phone was old and beginning to break (the ringer has stopped working properly at times recently unless the phone is rebooted).  I went to Carphone Warehouse with my Mum.  I don’t really trust myself to make these kinds of decisions alone.  It’s silly really (although I suppose if I had a wife and said I always ask her advice before buying anything that would be seen as reasonable), but I don’t really trust myself to spot the best deals and not to be manoeuvred into buying whatever the sales assistant wants (true autistic story: it took me a stupidly long time to realise that if the sales assistant says that they use model X in their home, they may not be being completely honest).  I felt very autistic there, firstly because the doors to the street were open and a lot of noise was coming in from the main road outside and I couldn’t hear everything that was being said and spaced out a bit, but also because I got lost in the details and I’m not entirely sure what I’ve committed to buying.  It probably doesn’t help that phones don’t interest me, I don’t really understand them; I don’t mean how they work (although I don’t understand that), but I have only the vaguest idea of all the stuff you can do on phones these days in terms of apps, streaming internet content and so forth and I try to avoid using mine as much as possible.  But I know this kind of vagueness about concrete things was one of the reasons E. just wanted to stay friends and not date and I worry that realistically any potential date is going to have the same reservations.


My mood today was reasonably good, or at least, it was after lunch.  I always wake up drained and depressed, struggle to get going (particularly now I’m not working) and tend to stay that way until lunch time.  But this afternoon as well as walking to and from the shops and doing some shopping, I spent a while on the fragment of semi-autobiographical fiction that I’ve been writing and did about forty-five minutes of Torah study.  Not a great day, but I achieved some things.  Except now I’m sitting here watching the sun set as I write and I feel melancholy again.  I feel lonely and I know that means romantic/sexual loneliness.  Perhaps that is just being human (I’ve read The Lonely Man of Faith three times), but it feels a dangerous emotion for me, because it’s an itch I doubt I will ever manage to scratch.  Certainly not for a long time.

There is also a vague feeling of emptiness in my life, which may be connected with that.  The feeling that my religious life is, if not a fraud, then at least hollow.  That I do mitzvot, especially prayer and Torah study, from obligation more than with enthusiasm and joy.  That I can’t connect with HaShem (God) any more, and have not done so for many years, even though I still believe strongly that He is there.  I know He is there, I just can’t hear Him.  There’s too much static.

2 thoughts on “Half of What I Say is Meaningless

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