The style of all white bedrooms, including especially all white sheets and all white duvets. Now, I’d say, oh, it’s just in magazines and stores, but I’ve seen it in real actual bedrooms that real actual women live in. Why? Do they have spare duvets for a week every month? I look forward to the style ending so I can buy myself a duvet cover.
I am coming down with a cold, so I am taking the morning off. But mostly, I’m more stressed and unhappy than sick. But I finally checked my account balances (they’re just fine) and so that’s one thing less that I’ve been avoiding.
I have a few hours of relaxing this morning, I slept in a bit (hurray), then I’ll go out and work until 9:30 again.
Remember my dizziness? It never entirely went away, but it was irregular instead of all the time. It is coming back on all the time again. Bleh.
I don’t know why I even bother setting my alarm for [extra early hour] given that I invariably either sleep through it or hit snooze a zillion times thinking “well, I can do everything *later*, I want to sleep *now*”.
My oven is now heating up for the muffins. I want to leave in 30 minutes.
I have not yet gotten dressed, brushed my teeth, made coffee, made lunch, put together all the stuff I need for my day.
I have, however, checked my emails and read blogs.
That if the heat in my place is so low that my fingers hurt a bit from the cold and I feel weird tingling on my arms that I should think about turning up the heat.
Then I merrily laugh because laughing keeps me warmer and I am going to bed now anyhow, and I prefer to sleep if the air is a little cool. Plus, I lit a fire (which I am still sleeping in front of).
I sort of wish I could talk about this whole new thing I am doing. And of course part of me doesn’t — this is the part that tells a very few of my friends small details about it, and then tries to obfuscate the rest, and is trying to keep anyone else at all from knowing. Why? I wish I knew. My answer is mostly: I am crazy.
So, um, I am mostly liking it, and a lot a lot terrified (a lot!) and also incredibly incredibly busy, which, much as I am complaining about it (sleep, how I miss you) is also nicer than not being busy. Though it means I don’t see friends, I do end up spending all day with people, which is more than enough social interaction for me. I am also still going to the shelter, which is more and more depressing every time I go there.
I wonder sometimes if I’m busy and liking it because busy means I don’t have time to think about anything else. Then I realise hey, I’m too busy to worry about this shit. This is possibly a good thing for me.
I get home at 12:30 from a party, exhausted and with one contact lens that has fallen out (I have problems with that eye, the party wasn’t so wild). All I want to do is go to sleep.
So what do I see but a huge truck parked in my parking spot.
Now I have to sit around waiting for the police to come and tow the stupid truck instead of sleeping, like all happy mes would be doing at this point.
Update: still waiting! When a car is available, it will come, but no clue when. Tired! So far, angry and vengeful is beating out tired. I hope you rot in hell, asshole who parked in my parking spot.
Update 2: either they never came, or I didn’t wake up when they came. Damn.
I found my favourite skirt, only a month or so after it went missing. I still have not found either of my two pairs of missing jeans, though, but they’re much easier to replace. Not that I am going to, because I remain convinced they will turn up.
I had planned some post in my head this morning. But I left the house around 8:30 and got back around 11:00, so whatever it is, it’s gone. I liked House tonight! Oh, the entire episode was idiotic, but the very last scene made it all worthwhile.
I need to catch up on sleep soon.
When I got home, I found a lovely surprise: a package from Anna Louise. In December, she offered to send anyone who commented (even lurkers like me) a book of some sort. I got the uncorrected page proofs for something called Conversations with the Devil, which sounds a little unpromising, as pre-reviews go, but possibly very interesting. I tend to be wary of Christian-themed books. Anyways, I shall read it and see. I am sounding profoundly ungrateful here, which is all wrong, because I am looking forward to reading the book, and seeing it in my mailbox (well, really on my staircase, where the neighbour who picked up my mail for me left it — but I was no less excited to see it there).
In other news, my scrambled eggs turned out really, really badly. Ick.