Wednesday, 12 October 2011

I really need to learn how to smile for the camera

I am not so good at doing the whole posting on the day stuff happened thing. I had a good reason for it yesterday, though. I toppled into bed at 8:45pm and slept until 7:40am. A good eleven hours sleep right there. That did not stop me from being tired all day or being ready for bed now, but it was good to have a catch up. When you get up at 7:15am (or are meant to, anyway) to work from 8-5 and usually end up staying at work until 6 and then can't bring yourself to sleep until midnight you end up getting little sleep. Which would be find if I was one of those lucky weirdos who can thrive off 7 hours sleep or less a night. It's less fine when you're one of those unlucky weirdos who isn't capable of being properly rested without at least 10 hours of sleep a night. I'm too young to have a 9pm bedtime, you hear me?

So I am faced with a difficult choice: be responsible, go to bed early and resent the fact that a job I dislike takes up most of my life but at least be fairly cheerful during that time and able to do stuff during the weekend or be a rebel who stays up late and is then grumpy, depressed and nearly asleep during the day, after work and on the weekend. It seems like a no-brainer, but when my weekend prospects are church (which is awesome) and housework (which is not) it's hard to let those two days be the only time I actually enjoy my week. Oh, woe is me.

I'm trying to make the responsible choice but it just ain't working. At least not until I get so tired that I flop into bed just to lie down for a bit and don't wake until morning.

Anyway, I have the temperament that sometimes gets into very spontaneously restless moods. I get an idea to do something with someone and if that person is unenthusiastic or makes me wait, I quickly get depressed and then resist any attempt on their part to reinstate the plans, insisting that I don't want to after all or that the moment has gone. I get it from my mumma, who got into that mood last night. She wanted to go out for Mexican. She rang me at work to tell me this and since I'm up for doing stuff, I said sure. She also asked my dad, who hesitated but agreed. I tried to get away from work at five but ended up not leaving till quarter to six. By this time Mum was at the depressed stage and had given up. Recognising for the first time that I get it from her, I insisted that we go without Dad (cos he didn't really want to go and you need genuine enthusiasm in that mood. Like this!!!!!!!!!!!) and we ended up drinking cocktails - well, mocktails on my part, but her Pina Colada was almost nicer than my alco-free Strawberry Daiquiri - and eating delicious Mexican food from The Flying Burrito Brothers! We were all dressed up for it, but my belt has become so tight that I had to take it off after ten minutes for fear that I was squishing my organs so much they'd become bonsai organs like the bonsai trees my dad used to grow.

After our delicious dinner I came home and slept. What an exciting night! Slightly more exciting than tonight, which has been spent grocery shopping, stalking my friends on Facebook, failing simple algebra and writing this post. Oh what a charmed life I lead.

The work look. I did not realise that the combination of boots and dress made me look like someone amputated my legs. On the bright side, my friend Nicole gave me the deliciously comfy wool jersey :D
See what I mean about needing to learn to smile for the camera? My natural is much nicer, I promise.

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