Tuesday, December 05, 2006
tipity top of the world
Have continued my mission to maintain good thinking. OK so not doing as much as I should on the "remember the breathing exercise" front and slightly disturbed to discover how quickly one gets used to being tipity top of the world and accepts it as the norm, then starts to wonder if actually you are sliding down. Oh crazy human brain I say - write down the good stuff again.
So this week I have done more at home stuff than for a while. My hangover (reported last time) escalated and I watched Schindlers list at last (fine film, inevitably disturbing) the Truth and Lies (you know when you get restless about 20 mins into a film, that's to tell you that maybe this is a dull film and another one would be better. Sadly when you have a hangover and the film's been sat on top of the tv waiting to be watched THAT long you persevere). I achieved stuff that sunday, even went to Pilates without the guiding light of the good AJ to go with me. think I was even in on Monday and Wednesday too! Tuesday was sociology night as usual. Good grief I'll be glad to get family over with. And are A levels nothing but remembering names and what idea they had? I like Uni material a lot better - give me bit ideas and their application none of this memorising facts bollox. Oh well it's an experience. Thursday was of course pub day, and yesterday was girl sickness evening. No matter how much you know going to the gym is the best thing for you there are some times you just don't get your sorry ass out there.
I have also watched Cathy Come HOme at last - thanks BBC4! although watching it then another programme on homelessness wasn't the best way to a peaceful night's sleep. Shelter are indeed the charity of choice for an Iola (I think they get the proceeds of my life assurance if I die, either that or my house. My will was written when I wasn't highly valuing my family it has to be said, I'll change it when I move. Oh and not agreeing with the terms of ones will anymore is a good way of stopping oneself doing anything daft when in the throws of a gloom, it's the stop short of the "but how on earth could I put my friends through that" stop. only got beyond that once, and the guilt of it still lives in a corner of my soul)
I'm sure I watched another film this week but chuffed if I can remember what it was. Have miraculously managed to clear my in tray and my outstanding personal filing - although I do have a very small heap on my desk that is pretending it's all there is of the "evil landlady duties" filling. Unfortunately I see through this cunning ruse and know I actually have a box of stuff to sort, hidden under my box of computer disks. A plan for the weekend (as well as the other landlady duties, emptying the garage, working out how the hell you get new plaster painted asap asap... etc.
Last weekend involved the lovely JB (soon to be JC)'s hen night - it was a fine afaire. A small number of us ate lovely food in 56 oriental, then retired to my place to drink gallons of wine and talk shite. Now that is what hen nights should be, none of this single sex, talking about lingerie and how shite blokes are bollox. Mixed company a group big enough to have two conversations going but small enough for all to take part in one. The next day was another friend's birthday party. He was renoun for his parties in the past but location location location - and a location 2 bus journeys and a £10 in taxi fare home for his mates doesn't lead to a rammed party. Sadly he is allowing his neighbours to play the "we had a baby" card and limit his life unreasonably. It's a baby - it's got 16 years to learn how not to be selfish, sleeping through parties once or twice a year is a requirement. I confess I didn't know him in the days of parties where you had to fight through 600 people to find the toilet, about which I have few regrets (having been to one or two like that I concluded they are more entertaining to hear about than to attend. Those parties were a bit like the queue for the toilets at an old fashioned theatre during the break in a play, all waiting and rushing and no time to drink your drink in peace).
Oh I'm rather excited about starting my new job next week. I have a payroll number (this is good, it means I'll have internet access. No I don't understand the link but when you are going over to the dark side you know things don't always make sense)
I believe the cats are finally grasping english - last night I told them if they woke me at 5 they'd die, and never be allowed up stairs again. For the first time since I went soft I slept right through when they had the run of the house. Either that or I had my "don't go in the kitchen" voice on.
So this week I have done more at home stuff than for a while. My hangover (reported last time) escalated and I watched Schindlers list at last (fine film, inevitably disturbing) the Truth and Lies (you know when you get restless about 20 mins into a film, that's to tell you that maybe this is a dull film and another one would be better. Sadly when you have a hangover and the film's been sat on top of the tv waiting to be watched THAT long you persevere). I achieved stuff that sunday, even went to Pilates without the guiding light of the good AJ to go with me. think I was even in on Monday and Wednesday too! Tuesday was sociology night as usual. Good grief I'll be glad to get family over with. And are A levels nothing but remembering names and what idea they had? I like Uni material a lot better - give me bit ideas and their application none of this memorising facts bollox. Oh well it's an experience. Thursday was of course pub day, and yesterday was girl sickness evening. No matter how much you know going to the gym is the best thing for you there are some times you just don't get your sorry ass out there.
I have also watched Cathy Come HOme at last - thanks BBC4! although watching it then another programme on homelessness wasn't the best way to a peaceful night's sleep. Shelter are indeed the charity of choice for an Iola (I think they get the proceeds of my life assurance if I die, either that or my house. My will was written when I wasn't highly valuing my family it has to be said, I'll change it when I move. Oh and not agreeing with the terms of ones will anymore is a good way of stopping oneself doing anything daft when in the throws of a gloom, it's the stop short of the "but how on earth could I put my friends through that" stop. only got beyond that once, and the guilt of it still lives in a corner of my soul)
I'm sure I watched another film this week but chuffed if I can remember what it was. Have miraculously managed to clear my in tray and my outstanding personal filing - although I do have a very small heap on my desk that is pretending it's all there is of the "evil landlady duties" filling. Unfortunately I see through this cunning ruse and know I actually have a box of stuff to sort, hidden under my box of computer disks. A plan for the weekend (as well as the other landlady duties, emptying the garage, working out how the hell you get new plaster painted asap asap... etc.
Last weekend involved the lovely JB (soon to be JC)'s hen night - it was a fine afaire. A small number of us ate lovely food in 56 oriental, then retired to my place to drink gallons of wine and talk shite. Now that is what hen nights should be, none of this single sex, talking about lingerie and how shite blokes are bollox. Mixed company a group big enough to have two conversations going but small enough for all to take part in one. The next day was another friend's birthday party. He was renoun for his parties in the past but location location location - and a location 2 bus journeys and a £10 in taxi fare home for his mates doesn't lead to a rammed party. Sadly he is allowing his neighbours to play the "we had a baby" card and limit his life unreasonably. It's a baby - it's got 16 years to learn how not to be selfish, sleeping through parties once or twice a year is a requirement. I confess I didn't know him in the days of parties where you had to fight through 600 people to find the toilet, about which I have few regrets (having been to one or two like that I concluded they are more entertaining to hear about than to attend. Those parties were a bit like the queue for the toilets at an old fashioned theatre during the break in a play, all waiting and rushing and no time to drink your drink in peace).
Oh I'm rather excited about starting my new job next week. I have a payroll number (this is good, it means I'll have internet access. No I don't understand the link but when you are going over to the dark side you know things don't always make sense)
I believe the cats are finally grasping english - last night I told them if they woke me at 5 they'd die, and never be allowed up stairs again. For the first time since I went soft I slept right through when they had the run of the house. Either that or I had my "don't go in the kitchen" voice on.
// posted by Bitvacuous @ 11:14 pm 
