Showing posts with label excuses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label excuses. Show all posts
Sunday, 10 March 2013
Lazy Meals
Lazy meals is a very broad category that can span from both ends of the quality spectrum.
Sometimes 'lazy meal' means 'I had some frozen portions of lasagne in the freezer for just this kind of occasion'.
Other times it means 'I put slices of jarlsberg onto salt and vinegar pringles and called it a day'.
There are lazy meals like 'frozen veg fried rice' where you cook up some rice and some frozen veg, add some soy sauce and call it a day*.
There are lazy meals like 'bung some chicken nuggets and some chips on an oven tray and set the timer'.
Some days you don't have time to cook.
Some days you don't have the energy to cook.
Some days you don't have the groceries to cook.
Some days you are feeling too petulant and shitty with the world to cook.
Or to have anything that contains vitamins.
Or to do what anyone tells you to do.
Even if that someone is the part of yourself that knows you're being a bit ridiculous right now.
Lazy meals can be a matter of convenience, a form of comfort food, a trip down memory lane to your student days**, a combination of all three, or just for the hell of it.
This is an awfully philosophical and roundabout way to tell you that I'm eating stellini pasta with butter and shaker parmesan for dinner but, y'know, it's all a matter of perspective.
*Unless you're me, in which case you stir through some grated mozarella and then call it a day.
**If you had them. No judgement if you didn't. Then they'd be your 'first house where I could eat what I wanted and/or was on a tight budget' days.
Sunday, 2 December 2012
Brain Go Poop
Yep, can't think of anything to write.
All obsessed with getting my last bits and shits packed for Nepal.
Once I get back I'll do a couple of big posts about it and then I will probably be able to shut up about it.
To a certain extent...
This is going to be my theme song for the trek.
All obsessed with getting my last bits and shits packed for Nepal.
Once I get back I'll do a couple of big posts about it and then I will probably be able to shut up about it.
To a certain extent...
This is going to be my theme song for the trek.
Sunday, 8 July 2012
Speed Bumps
I haven't thought of it as a case of 'better the devil you know' because I've
always understood that to be referring to being in a cruddy situation
but being afraid that leaving it might land you in something worse.
Complacency may have the same effect though.
Things are OK so change isn't at the top of the list of things to do.
There's stuff I want to learn, goals I want to achieve, and whilst I've been moving towards them, I never feel that I've made as much progress as I'd like in the time since I set those goals.
For instance, I've been a bit bored at work for a while now but my searching for a new job has been sporadic because:
The thing is, even though I'm having a decent enough time, you've only got so many years in your life and I've been in my current job for five years. That's a few more years than you want to devote to 'things are going OK' unless you've achieved a few more things.
I want that 'what if I cock up!?' nervous excitement of starting a new job.
I want to meet new people.
I want to live in different places.
I want to try new things.
I can visualise all this happening easily enough but when I do it's always 'in the future' and after five years of the present, I'm having to put a boot up my own bum to remind myself that the future doesn't just happen by itself.
I'm not planning to quit my job and just run out into the world, hoping that something will fall into my lap but I am going to make more of a concentrated effort to start things moving.
I'll start with what I'm good at - making lists - and then move onto what I'm determined to be better at - making decisions.
I don't want another five years to pass and to still be sitting here going 'but things are OK'.
This Akimbo comic nails the feeling pretty well (click for bigness).
Disclaimer: I know the argument in this comic really only applies to people who are lucky enough to have certain opportunities and circumstances and can't be smugly held up to people who are living in poverty and struggling to survive and feed their families.
Complacency may have the same effect though.
Things are OK so change isn't at the top of the list of things to do.
There's stuff I want to learn, goals I want to achieve, and whilst I've been moving towards them, I never feel that I've made as much progress as I'd like in the time since I set those goals.
For instance, I've been a bit bored at work for a while now but my searching for a new job has been sporadic because:
- I'm not quite sure what I want to do next,
- getting a new job will probably involve the added complication of moving because I don't live anywhere particularly central, and
- even though I'm a bit bored, my life isn't bad.
The thing is, even though I'm having a decent enough time, you've only got so many years in your life and I've been in my current job for five years. That's a few more years than you want to devote to 'things are going OK' unless you've achieved a few more things.
I want that 'what if I cock up!?' nervous excitement of starting a new job.
I want to meet new people.
I want to live in different places.
I want to try new things.
I can visualise all this happening easily enough but when I do it's always 'in the future' and after five years of the present, I'm having to put a boot up my own bum to remind myself that the future doesn't just happen by itself.
I'm not planning to quit my job and just run out into the world, hoping that something will fall into my lap but I am going to make more of a concentrated effort to start things moving.
I'll start with what I'm good at - making lists - and then move onto what I'm determined to be better at - making decisions.
I don't want another five years to pass and to still be sitting here going 'but things are OK'.
This Akimbo comic nails the feeling pretty well (click for bigness).
Disclaimer: I know the argument in this comic really only applies to people who are lucky enough to have certain opportunities and circumstances and can't be smugly held up to people who are living in poverty and struggling to survive and feed their families.
 |
| Akimbo Comics |
Sunday, 25 December 2011
Catch Up
Alrighty, during generalised fretting and getting distracted I got halfway through writing this handful of posts and I've only just now got my arse into gear to finish and post them.
And I figured seeing as I bothered to finish them I should bother to point them out.
So, yeah, I wrote some things.
26 January - Iron Maiden!
05 March - Soundwave!
13 March - Take No Prisoners, Show No Mercy, Leave No Witnesses
19 March - Dot Dot Dot Dot Dot Dash Dash Dash Crash
2 April - One Or The Other Or The Other Or The Other
10 April - Where To? Where From?
16 April - That's SIR Terry Pratchett, I'll Have You Know
24 April - The Enormity Of Everything
And I figured seeing as I bothered to finish them I should bother to point them out.
So, yeah, I wrote some things.
26 January - Iron Maiden!
05 March - Soundwave!
13 March - Take No Prisoners, Show No Mercy, Leave No Witnesses
19 March - Dot Dot Dot Dot Dot Dash Dash Dash Crash
2 April - One Or The Other Or The Other Or The Other
10 April - Where To? Where From?
16 April - That's SIR Terry Pratchett, I'll Have You Know
24 April - The Enormity Of Everything
Saturday, 7 May 2011
Sick Sick Sick
I can't think of a better way to start this so I'll just say: I got sick over the Christmas holidays.
It started off just before Christmas with me thinking I'd pulled a muscle in my forearm or given myself tendinitis ten-pin bowling with too heavy a bowling ball the night before and then a couple of days later the other arm started doing the same thing.
After a few days they both started aching and throbbing, they felt hot all the time and didn't like to be left in one place for long when I was trying to sleep.
Then my hands puffed up.
I spent two weeks with cold packs more or less permanently strapped to my arms which had to be rested on a banana pillow on my lap because holding my arms up made me too tired and hurt too much.
I didn't have enough strength in my hands to open a loosely tightened screw-top water bottle let alone type or do anything else.
All I could do was lay about the place watching TV and worrying.
I couldn't even read because holding a book up or even open for longer than five minutes hurt too much.
Then my guts decided to join in and ache and play up for a bit. So not only could I not sit up for too long, I couldn't lie in one position for long either.
My appetite went AWOL, I lost at least 6 kg* in 2 weeks. They weren't kilos I needed, losing them didn't push me into an unhealthy weight range, but it was disconcerting seeing them all wander off at the same time when the most energetic thing I was doing was pressing 'Play All' and gnawing on my lip.
I was in a panic and had been seeing the doctor ever since the symptoms had kicked up from 'slightly annoying' to 'what the hell is going on here!?'.
I had some blood tests done, I had some ultrasounds and a few other scans.
For the most part everything came back normal but a couple of things that should have been up were down and a couple that should have been down were up.
Just when things were at their worst and I was starting to make plans for how I was going to have to move back home with my parents, wondering how my cats would cope with our other cats and what sort of work a person with a functioning brain but crapped out arms could manage, things started to slowly calm down.
As far as we've been able to work out I caught a virus, probably courtesy of one of the many millions of mosquitoes that have come out to play after all the flooding in the last few months, which sent my system into a major freak-out.
Fortunately a combination of the lifespan of the virus and my being a reasonably healthy young-ish person stopped it before it went past the point of no return.
I apparently came within a gnat's wing of developing a permanent inflammatory condition.
I've been back at work since the start of February and every week since then I've felt a bit better. Just being able to be at work and do things like cook and drive for myself have been a huge mood lifter all by themselves.
Most of my blood test scores are back to normal and I have been eating and living like a saint to keep the recovery marching on.
I've had to give up both caffeine and alcohol for the rest of this year to give myself the best chance at a full recovery and avoid the possibility of any kind of relapse.
Depending on how far one of the last scores recovers, I may end up having to ration or forgo alcohol and caffeine permanently.
Nevertheless at this point what I am feeling is incredibly, incredibly lucky.
I have never been that sick before and hope never to be that sick ever again.
I am beyond grateful that I feel as close to normal as I do now and if it takes giving up stimulants to maintain it, I won't even blink.
It's easy to dismiss the phrase 'at least you have your health' when you're healthy and there's something going wrong in your life, or just not going as right as you'd like, but I am never going to take that sentiment for granted again.
Anyway, now that I'm done being serious and disconcertingly earnest the two things I started this post wanting to say are as follows:
When I was physically unable to write I still came up with ideas for my posts and now I'm both mentally and physically able to do so I'm going to start filling in the place-saver drafts I claw typed at the time.
So over the next few weeks I'll be filling in the gaping void that currently lies between December and the present day.
Some of you had already noticed my amazing time defying efforts in this area and oh how I wish your assumptions were true and I could pull a Back to the Future because I would tell Past Me what I'm about to tell Current You.
Wear mosquito repellent all the time.
Just all the damn time.
If you're going outside I want you to spritz yourself with repellent and then I want you to spritz yourself again just to be sure.
All over.
I don't care what the season is - mosquito repellent.
It's worth it, believe me.
OK, maybe I wasn't quite done being disconcertingly earnest.
PS. As hard as it may be to believe this isn't supposed to be a 'downer' post, me and my working arms are in a great mood :-)
*That's about 13 lbs for the imperialists.
It started off just before Christmas with me thinking I'd pulled a muscle in my forearm or given myself tendinitis ten-pin bowling with too heavy a bowling ball the night before and then a couple of days later the other arm started doing the same thing.
After a few days they both started aching and throbbing, they felt hot all the time and didn't like to be left in one place for long when I was trying to sleep.
Then my hands puffed up.
I spent two weeks with cold packs more or less permanently strapped to my arms which had to be rested on a banana pillow on my lap because holding my arms up made me too tired and hurt too much.
I didn't have enough strength in my hands to open a loosely tightened screw-top water bottle let alone type or do anything else.
All I could do was lay about the place watching TV and worrying.
I couldn't even read because holding a book up or even open for longer than five minutes hurt too much.
Then my guts decided to join in and ache and play up for a bit. So not only could I not sit up for too long, I couldn't lie in one position for long either.
My appetite went AWOL, I lost at least 6 kg* in 2 weeks. They weren't kilos I needed, losing them didn't push me into an unhealthy weight range, but it was disconcerting seeing them all wander off at the same time when the most energetic thing I was doing was pressing 'Play All' and gnawing on my lip.
I was in a panic and had been seeing the doctor ever since the symptoms had kicked up from 'slightly annoying' to 'what the hell is going on here!?'.
I had some blood tests done, I had some ultrasounds and a few other scans.
For the most part everything came back normal but a couple of things that should have been up were down and a couple that should have been down were up.
Just when things were at their worst and I was starting to make plans for how I was going to have to move back home with my parents, wondering how my cats would cope with our other cats and what sort of work a person with a functioning brain but crapped out arms could manage, things started to slowly calm down.
As far as we've been able to work out I caught a virus, probably courtesy of one of the many millions of mosquitoes that have come out to play after all the flooding in the last few months, which sent my system into a major freak-out.
Fortunately a combination of the lifespan of the virus and my being a reasonably healthy young-ish person stopped it before it went past the point of no return.
I apparently came within a gnat's wing of developing a permanent inflammatory condition.
I've been back at work since the start of February and every week since then I've felt a bit better. Just being able to be at work and do things like cook and drive for myself have been a huge mood lifter all by themselves.
Most of my blood test scores are back to normal and I have been eating and living like a saint to keep the recovery marching on.
I've had to give up both caffeine and alcohol for the rest of this year to give myself the best chance at a full recovery and avoid the possibility of any kind of relapse.
Depending on how far one of the last scores recovers, I may end up having to ration or forgo alcohol and caffeine permanently.
Nevertheless at this point what I am feeling is incredibly, incredibly lucky.
I have never been that sick before and hope never to be that sick ever again.
I am beyond grateful that I feel as close to normal as I do now and if it takes giving up stimulants to maintain it, I won't even blink.
It's easy to dismiss the phrase 'at least you have your health' when you're healthy and there's something going wrong in your life, or just not going as right as you'd like, but I am never going to take that sentiment for granted again.
Anyway, now that I'm done being serious and disconcertingly earnest the two things I started this post wanting to say are as follows:
When I was physically unable to write I still came up with ideas for my posts and now I'm both mentally and physically able to do so I'm going to start filling in the place-saver drafts I claw typed at the time.
So over the next few weeks I'll be filling in the gaping void that currently lies between December and the present day.
Some of you had already noticed my amazing time defying efforts in this area and oh how I wish your assumptions were true and I could pull a Back to the Future because I would tell Past Me what I'm about to tell Current You.
Wear mosquito repellent all the time.
Just all the damn time.
If you're going outside I want you to spritz yourself with repellent and then I want you to spritz yourself again just to be sure.
All over.
I don't care what the season is - mosquito repellent.
It's worth it, believe me.
OK, maybe I wasn't quite done being disconcertingly earnest.
PS. As hard as it may be to believe this isn't supposed to be a 'downer' post, me and my working arms are in a great mood :-)
*That's about 13 lbs for the imperialists.
Saturday, 2 August 2008
Trial And Error, My Friends, Trial And Error
Soooooooooooooooooo anyway I set fire to my kitchen the other day...
Not like in a big way. It was just the oven. I mean, just the griller of the oven.
I was making lamb chops and those things spit like bastards, so they were sparking little bits o' fat up at the gas element and I decided to take a "eh what's the worse thing that could happen?" approach rather than panicking and looking on like a nervous nancy. People are too nervous these days, don't you think?
Apparently one of the worst things that could happen is the fat that has been slowly gathering around the chops can finally catch fire, leading to a tiny re-enactment of Sodom and Gomorrah* as fatty spitty fire rained down upon the hapless chops.
It was really quite instructional.
I realised that I hadn't gotten around to buying a fire extinguisher for the house**.
I figured throwing water inside the grill would be tricky and a bad idea.
I noticed in time that if I pulled the grill out to extinguish the alleged 'fire'*** I would melt the knobs off the front of the stove...
So with my mad improvisational skills I took a pizza tray, shoved it into the grill over the burny thingy and bits of unfortunate and victimised meat and successfully extinguished the tiny tiny blaze.
Also I found out that meat that has caught a little bit on fire can still be quite delicious and still maintain a light flavour of seasoning and pepper.
It's the second episode in my latest series of Xtreme Housekeeping Events.
The first was flooding out my local Laundromat.
Technically I can't claim full credit for that one though as it had more to do with a faulty washing machine than it had to do with me but still... Having a washing machine jittering and spewing water and suds from both ends, freaking out both young and old alike was quite entertaining.
I do own a washing machine which should exempt me from the Laundromat experience but apart from the fact it was a little venerable to start with, it got dropped a little bit between the moving van and my latest place and has never actually, y'know, worked again.
Hence the local Laundromat and the joys that it brings****.
The simplest solution to this particular dilemma would be to buy a brand new washing machine.
That just seems a little extreme.
I don't really want to go into an electronics store because the barely controlled desperation and resentment lurking in the eyes of a salesperson on commission is second only to that seen behind the eyes of clowns.
There is also the little surly old person voice that has muttered from within me since mine birth that keeps on insisting that appliances aren't what they used to be and that the minute I buy something it'll either break down or be featured on a hard hitting news program as the sole cause of global warming.
This is, as I'm sure is obvious, a lovely lovely excuse for not having to go shopping and wade through a sea of minor differences between products and lies with the end result of being allowed to give other people money for an object that may or may not get dropped a bit on the way up the stairs...
Ah well. I expect I'll snap sooner or later.
Probably the next time someone comes up behind me whilst I'm folding sheets and tells me that I smell nice and not at all like socks.
*Just the 'fire and brimstone from above' imagery, not the ridiculous twitchy-eyed behavioural accusations and blatantly discriminatory bit.
**No! No! Bad! Buy!
***OK, yeah, it was really fire.
****Eg: Getting to see other people's smalls, being accused of stealing someone's drying after they'd only left it in there for seven hours whilst they rustled someone else's cattle (just going by smell here), wondering how on Earth you can raise a kid to be morbidly obese by the time they're, what? Seven? I can't quite tell...
Not like in a big way. It was just the oven. I mean, just the griller of the oven.
I was making lamb chops and those things spit like bastards, so they were sparking little bits o' fat up at the gas element and I decided to take a "eh what's the worse thing that could happen?" approach rather than panicking and looking on like a nervous nancy. People are too nervous these days, don't you think?
Apparently one of the worst things that could happen is the fat that has been slowly gathering around the chops can finally catch fire, leading to a tiny re-enactment of Sodom and Gomorrah* as fatty spitty fire rained down upon the hapless chops.
It was really quite instructional.
I realised that I hadn't gotten around to buying a fire extinguisher for the house**.
I figured throwing water inside the grill would be tricky and a bad idea.
I noticed in time that if I pulled the grill out to extinguish the alleged 'fire'*** I would melt the knobs off the front of the stove...
So with my mad improvisational skills I took a pizza tray, shoved it into the grill over the burny thingy and bits of unfortunate and victimised meat and successfully extinguished the tiny tiny blaze.
Also I found out that meat that has caught a little bit on fire can still be quite delicious and still maintain a light flavour of seasoning and pepper.
It's the second episode in my latest series of Xtreme Housekeeping Events.
The first was flooding out my local Laundromat.
Technically I can't claim full credit for that one though as it had more to do with a faulty washing machine than it had to do with me but still... Having a washing machine jittering and spewing water and suds from both ends, freaking out both young and old alike was quite entertaining.
I do own a washing machine which should exempt me from the Laundromat experience but apart from the fact it was a little venerable to start with, it got dropped a little bit between the moving van and my latest place and has never actually, y'know, worked again.
Hence the local Laundromat and the joys that it brings****.
The simplest solution to this particular dilemma would be to buy a brand new washing machine.
That just seems a little extreme.
I don't really want to go into an electronics store because the barely controlled desperation and resentment lurking in the eyes of a salesperson on commission is second only to that seen behind the eyes of clowns.
There is also the little surly old person voice that has muttered from within me since mine birth that keeps on insisting that appliances aren't what they used to be and that the minute I buy something it'll either break down or be featured on a hard hitting news program as the sole cause of global warming.
This is, as I'm sure is obvious, a lovely lovely excuse for not having to go shopping and wade through a sea of minor differences between products and lies with the end result of being allowed to give other people money for an object that may or may not get dropped a bit on the way up the stairs...
Ah well. I expect I'll snap sooner or later.
Probably the next time someone comes up behind me whilst I'm folding sheets and tells me that I smell nice and not at all like socks.
*Just the 'fire and brimstone from above' imagery, not the ridiculous twitchy-eyed behavioural accusations and blatantly discriminatory bit.
**No! No! Bad! Buy!
***OK, yeah, it was really fire.
****Eg: Getting to see other people's smalls, being accused of stealing someone's drying after they'd only left it in there for seven hours whilst they rustled someone else's cattle (just going by smell here), wondering how on Earth you can raise a kid to be morbidly obese by the time they're, what? Seven? I can't quite tell...
Friday, 1 February 2008
Who Me?
I managed to crap out on my hectic 'once a week' posting schedule.
But I have a good reason.
I was at the beach.
What's that?
Well, yes, the town in question did have a magical portal to the land we call internets.
Pardon?
Yes, yes I am just a lazy hussy who was drunk on sand, surf and... well drinks, to be frank.
Am I properly ashamed of myself?
Well I was raised Catholic so I always feel vaguely guilty about something but I suppose, yes, I am.
What am I going to do about it?
*sigh* I'll post two things this weekend and make a note in my weekly planner to stop sucking. OK? OK.
Huh?
No this is not one of the bloody posts! I'm not that freaking lazy! *
*This is a lie but on this occasion I will overthrow my natural tendencies and produce two more posts to follow this one before the weekend is out.
But I have a good reason.
I was at the beach.
What's that?
Well, yes, the town in question did have a magical portal to the land we call internets.
Pardon?
Yes, yes I am just a lazy hussy who was drunk on sand, surf and... well drinks, to be frank.
Am I properly ashamed of myself?
Well I was raised Catholic so I always feel vaguely guilty about something but I suppose, yes, I am.
What am I going to do about it?
*sigh* I'll post two things this weekend and make a note in my weekly planner to stop sucking. OK? OK.
Huh?
No this is not one of the bloody posts! I'm not that freaking lazy! *
*This is a lie but on this occasion I will overthrow my natural tendencies and produce two more posts to follow this one before the weekend is out.
Monday, 10 December 2007
The Dog Ate My Blog Post
Bah!
As this is the first full weekend off after NaNoWriMo I thought I would be hella full of energy and ideas and my writing muscles in my brain would be so bulgy that I would churn out a teetering stack of blog posts that I could release at whim over the course of many weeks.
Unfortunately given several factors this did not happen.
First of all my weekend was hijacked by malevolent elves. Well OK, they weren't actual elves.
One of them does look like an evil version of Jesus though and Jesus hung out with a bunch of guys kinda like Santa and... look one of the factors is that I didn't get a lot of sleep.
Let me start again.
Weekend. Hijacked.
What with cancelled trains, late nights, too much booze, demanding friends who have unrealistic expectations of the amount of hours in a day and my ability to travel from one place to another faster than the speed of light I seem to have spent most of this weekend turning up to things just in time or just in time to be asked why I didn't turn up earlier.
Without the power of sleep I have been unable to come up with any rejoinders wittier than 'so's your face'.
Without the power of wit all the conversations I've had have been ridiculously boring.
I tried to remedy these two problems with the power of alcohol which unfortunately just made me sleepier and my rejoinders slipped down the class scale to involve such zingers as 'your mum was [insert other person's previous statement here]'.
I've only been home long enough to have a couple of showers and get enough sleep that I didn't actually pass out at any point.
I've got nothing done, had no real meals and am getting major guilt trips from the cats and the dog who are going to great lengths to point out to me how abandoned and starved for affection they are. This has been conveyed via the mediums of poop, shedding and piteous noises of an almost Geneva Convention breaching magnitude.
No part of the weekend was actually bad per se but they were all jammed together so closely that I have had no time to myself and am going to roll into work tomorrow feeling tired, cranky and wondering if I somehow hallucinated the weekend altogether.
I know that this rambling bitching about nonspecific events doesn't constitute much of a blog post.
I also know that this is basically me making excuses to myself about not getting anything written during the week let alone over the weekend which is pretty weak.
But despite all the things that kept me from doing anything this weekend, none of them were actually significant enough to stick in my memory which is a little depressing.
The most memorable part of my whole weekend was this dream I had about a time travelling bumble bee man who changed the universe so that everyone I know was working at a giant hairdressing salon... but it doesn't get any more lucid as it progresses and I know that there are few things as uninteresting as other people's dreams.
Except the one I had where Batman was rappelling down the inside the chimney of a mansion wearing a santa hat as a disguise so that the gremlins who were living there would think he was Santa and... *coff coff*
Anyhoo by next weekend my energy levels should be back up, I should have actually produced some actual material, and I will be politely but firmly telling anyone who wants me to go anywhere or do anything to go do something of a fairly unpleasant and probably anatomically uncomfortable nature. Because if you can't occasionally tell your friends to go swivel then are they really your friends?
In the meantime I'd better go grab some sleep so I don't start trying to tell that bumble bee story at a meeting at work...
As this is the first full weekend off after NaNoWriMo I thought I would be hella full of energy and ideas and my writing muscles in my brain would be so bulgy that I would churn out a teetering stack of blog posts that I could release at whim over the course of many weeks.
Unfortunately given several factors this did not happen.
First of all my weekend was hijacked by malevolent elves. Well OK, they weren't actual elves.
One of them does look like an evil version of Jesus though and Jesus hung out with a bunch of guys kinda like Santa and... look one of the factors is that I didn't get a lot of sleep.
Let me start again.
Weekend. Hijacked.
What with cancelled trains, late nights, too much booze, demanding friends who have unrealistic expectations of the amount of hours in a day and my ability to travel from one place to another faster than the speed of light I seem to have spent most of this weekend turning up to things just in time or just in time to be asked why I didn't turn up earlier.
Without the power of sleep I have been unable to come up with any rejoinders wittier than 'so's your face'.
Without the power of wit all the conversations I've had have been ridiculously boring.
I tried to remedy these two problems with the power of alcohol which unfortunately just made me sleepier and my rejoinders slipped down the class scale to involve such zingers as 'your mum was [insert other person's previous statement here]'.
I've only been home long enough to have a couple of showers and get enough sleep that I didn't actually pass out at any point.
I've got nothing done, had no real meals and am getting major guilt trips from the cats and the dog who are going to great lengths to point out to me how abandoned and starved for affection they are. This has been conveyed via the mediums of poop, shedding and piteous noises of an almost Geneva Convention breaching magnitude.
No part of the weekend was actually bad per se but they were all jammed together so closely that I have had no time to myself and am going to roll into work tomorrow feeling tired, cranky and wondering if I somehow hallucinated the weekend altogether.
I know that this rambling bitching about nonspecific events doesn't constitute much of a blog post.
I also know that this is basically me making excuses to myself about not getting anything written during the week let alone over the weekend which is pretty weak.
But despite all the things that kept me from doing anything this weekend, none of them were actually significant enough to stick in my memory which is a little depressing.
The most memorable part of my whole weekend was this dream I had about a time travelling bumble bee man who changed the universe so that everyone I know was working at a giant hairdressing salon... but it doesn't get any more lucid as it progresses and I know that there are few things as uninteresting as other people's dreams.
Except the one I had where Batman was rappelling down the inside the chimney of a mansion wearing a santa hat as a disguise so that the gremlins who were living there would think he was Santa and... *coff coff*
Anyhoo by next weekend my energy levels should be back up, I should have actually produced some actual material, and I will be politely but firmly telling anyone who wants me to go anywhere or do anything to go do something of a fairly unpleasant and probably anatomically uncomfortable nature. Because if you can't occasionally tell your friends to go swivel then are they really your friends?
In the meantime I'd better go grab some sleep so I don't start trying to tell that bumble bee story at a meeting at work...
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