Defining Collywobbles.

Let’s see, what should I call her? How about the most significant woman in my life? That won’t really do because she has several rivals for that title. The most important woman in my life? Same objection. Let’s try the most compelling woman in my life. Mmm… no, not quite there yet. At least two other women could claim that level of status, all in different ways but it would be hard to choose between them. I think the best I can manage would be:

The woman who got under my skin a long time ago, who doesn’t know she’s there and wouldn’t want to be there, but who occupies my consciousness (in a positive light, that is) for more hours of the day than anybody else.

I know it’s a bit long winded, but at least it’s accurate. And so to the point of the post:

She smiled and waved at me today and I spent the following hour feeling shaken and mildly dysfunctional (even though the smile had more of duty than of pleasure about it.) I always do whenever I see anything even remotely connected with her. In Britain we like to call it ‘an attack of the collywobbles.’ (Although ‘collywobbles’ is defined quite liberally and has various nuances attached to it, including one relating to fear.)

And then, later that day, another, much older, woman walked into the coffee shop and also smiled at me. But it was a different sort of smile, an interested sort of smile that I found less than compelling. So then I got another attack of the collywobbles, only of a different sort than those which comprised the previous attack. At which point I considered beginning the grand tome entitled Collywobbles and Their Multifarious Hues, but I don’t expect I will.