I’ve worked 7:30 - 4:30 Thursday and Friday, 7:00 - 3:30 today and four hours tomorrow afternoon. My schedule is shagged so I now don’t have any consistency once again, and I’m working two evenings this week too at a restaurant.
I know you mean well, but seriously, I have no energy to do anything after I’ve worked - not on my evenings off, not on my days off. I just want to sleep, sit around and do jack shit.
Oh, and telling me to “think of the money” is all well and good, but I am so tired right now that I can’t actually THINK. I will be happy when the nice tidy little sum bounces into my account. That phrase “think of the money” worked at the start of the week - I was seeing the old dollar signs, as it were, but now I just feel like the living dead and can’t think past “two hours left…one hour left…30 minutes left…5 minutes left WHY IS IT GOING SO SLOWLY…home time…oh look, another shift!”
So in response to the person who meant well, No, I will no do anything other than work; I will sit on my arse and I will go online, and watch the television and make a short trip to the fridge in the ad break. I might do some drawing, maybe some painting…reading requires more of my brain than I’m prepared to use…and maybe a bit of writing. All of this is to be done past midday on my days off. Nothing more.
Today’s person of the day couldn’t really be anybody but my amazing Grandad, Taffy. If he were still here, he would have been 60 today. I know, that’s pretty young for the grandfather of a 21 year old, but he was about 12 years my Nan’s junior, and only 22 when they met (I think :/)
I never met him but from what I’ve heard, he was pretty bloody special. He changed my family in ways they never thought they could be changed. Life wasn’t great for them before Taffy came along, but he gave them six years of the best times.
At his birth, his mum had a Red Indian present, who told her that he wouldn’t live to be 30. Sadly, after being with my Nan for only 4 years, he was diagnosed with cancer of the pancreas. He was given months to live, but survived another two years.
He died on April 13th, 1980, at the age of 28, and on the 10th Anniversary of his death…I was born. I was two weeks early, and mum went into labour on the 11th, but managed to “hold on” til the early hours of Friday 13th. So, even though he never saw me, I feel like I’ve a special bond with him. I was meant to be born on that day to give the family something happier to remember. Sadly, I have absolutely none of his characteristics and don’t look a thing like him because he wasn’t my biological grandfather. But, I do my best to help keep his memory alive all the time and I love him dearly.
So, I spent half an hour at work today trying to work out what the bloody hell the lyrics “She’d go…I’d go…WE’D GO!!” were from. Obviously, they’re from ‘I Can’t Do It Alone’, from Chicago…but could I get that? Could I buggery.
This would be fine if I had only seen the show a few times and wasn’t overly familiar with the score…I have, however, seen it 17 times and know the score like the back of my hand. There was a point where I was seeing it every two months from May of last year til March of this year, so I have no excuse.
As a die-hard Chicago fan who loves nothing more than a bit of Razzle Dazzle and some jazz hands, I’m ashamed of myself :(
I think it’s my mind’s way of telling me that it’s been far too long since I’ve seen it (7 months is really bloody long when I saw it 4 times in the space of 52 days this year) and that I should pop along to London and get some tickets on the go. However, I don’t really fancy seeing America Fererra as Roxie…or Darius as Billy for that matter. So unless I get lucky with some understudies (which won’t happen as I don’t live in London) it’s just one big giant fail, I guess :(
My skin feels absolutely horrendous :( It was just a little rough patch on my left cheek yesterday…now it’s all over. I’m not going to be happy if I’ve suddenly got eczema (who’s clever idea was it to spell it like that!?) or something all over my frigging face! You can’t see it and it doesn’t itch, but it doesn’t feel particularly pleasant.
I’ve one flea-ridden cat, a cat box, two hours and a vile temper.
Mum’s at work and the cat has a vet’s appointment tonight due to being allergic to the flea spray we used…which led to her foaming at the mouth (not pretty). She’s also lost a chunk of fur and the skin beneath has become all infected. Lovely. So, I have the wonderful task of trying to get the vicious bitch into the cat box. Allow me to paint a picture of the challenge ahead…
We used to have a large cardboard box. Every time she had to go to the vets we’d bring it out, and then spend half the day trying to find her after she’d done a runner. It would then involve two to three of us trying to force her in and get the lid done up without losing any fingers…this would usually take about three attempts because the bitch always got out. We’d then have to put up with her scratching and biting the box repeatedly all the way to the vets and all the way back. She has since shredded the cardboard box (three times the size of her) and it is now useless - she has that much of a temper when going to the vets - so now we’ve upgraded to one of those plastic travel cages…we’re hoping she can’t break that one. She’s 15 years old and still looks like a kitten, yet when she knows she’s going to the vets it’s like red rag to a bull and she goes nuts.
At the moment, the box is sat merrily beside her food and she loves it. She thinks it’s a little penthouse and keeps nipping in and out for a little snooze. Problem is, when commeth the hour, commeth me, shit’s gonna hit the fan. At the moment, I’ve unmarked hands with all ten fingers attached. Come this afternoon, it may be a different story.
So I’d like to thank my mum now for leaving me with this task. As she’d always say to me as a kid after a tantrum: ”I love you, but I don’t have to like you right now!”
Maybe it’s because I’m pissed that I’m too old to go out and get sweets, I have no child to take to get me sweets, I RESENT the door bell ringing every 5 minutes ALL NIGHT, I find it a little weird that we encourage children to go and take sweets from strangers once a year and then try and tell them it’s wrong the other 364 days of it, and no one wants me to go to their parties…
…but that said - my Mum hasn’t even got us a freaking pumpkin! You just…have a pumpkin, right!? My Nan doesn’t find birthdays as exciting as christmas, but she still has a bloody cake!
So, I am putting my foot down. Mum is getting a pumpkin, even if I have to scoop it and carve shit into it myself (and it will be shit because ive absolutely no skill or talent whatsoever).
I think these lyrics pretty much sum up exactly how awesomely ELATED I’m feeling today!!!! I don’t care if it’s cheesy, I’m feeling so happy it’s cheesy! F*cking YES! Good news. Good mood. Good day. ILOVEIT!!
Such a feeling’s coming over me There is wonder in most everything I see Not a cloud in the sky (Actually, it’s pretty grey) Got the sun in my eye (It’s raining, but I don’t care!!) And I won’t be surprised a dream
Everything I want the world to be Is now coming true especially for me (Well, for her, but whatever!) And the reason is clear It’s because you are here You’re the nearest thing to heaven that I’ve seen
I’m on the top of the world (True.) Looking down on creation And the only explanation I can find Is the love that I’ve found Ever since you’ve been around Your love’s put me at the top of the world
Something in the wind has learned my name And it’s telling me that things are not the same (Oh no, they’re not :D) In the leaves of the trees And the touch of the breeze There’s a pleasing sense of happiness for me (Understatement)
There is only one wish on my mind When this day is through I hope that I will find That tomorrow will be just the same for you and me All I need will be mine if you are here (Actually, I hope everything is hers, she deserves it)
I’m on the top of the world Looking down on creation And the only explanation I can find Is the love that I’ve found Ever since you’ve been around Your love’s put me at the top of the world
So, BBC. A man died today, a sportsman, after he lost control of his bike, had his helmet knocked off, and was hit by two other riders, one of whom was his teammate and close friend. A horrific death, in front of thousands of spectators. And yet, because Manchester United got nailed, and because…
Looking for women size 10 - 22 for OUR PLUS SIZE COLLECTION.
How the hell is size 10 plus size!? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’ve issues with plus size women…absolutely far from it! I just think it’s a bit unfair to be getting in models who are clearly not plus size to model for bigger women. It pisses me off when I see people modelling for places like Evans when they’re evidently a size 10, and I can’t imagine it’ll make curvier women will feel all that great about themselves. It’s almost like saying “This is what you should look like…but you don’t, so go and pick up an 18” or “Look how good these clothes would look on you…if you lost a few stone!”
I’m sure plenty of plus size women don’t care, and that’s great. I certainly don’t give a rat’s arse what people look like, and it certainly doesn’t stop women from looking absolutely stunning. I just think people should be a bit more sensitive because there are women out there who aren’t comfortable with how they look, who would give anything to lose weight and look like the woman modelling the skinny version of their outfits, but can’t.
Just think a little bit - surely it’s not THAT difficult?
Why the hell is Dad smoking when he’s got such a bad cough!? Surely it’s absolutely wrecking his throat (more than usual) and making it worse? I’d almost got rid of mine and then after his endless trips out to the back garden to smoke…with the door open…yesterday, and then being stuck out in the kitchen (as I have no bedroom of my own anymore) with a load of smoky cooking going on, my cough is worse than it was when I had my cold and I’ve been choking away ever since. Sake!
I hate to say it at the age of 21, when I haven’t listened to the album in about 9 years… but there are some alright tracks on Holly Valance’s first album, Footprints. Certainly better than some of the shit we get today. And hey, you can’t beat a bit of Kiss Kiss - roll out the nostalgia!
Okay so I’ve picked my person of the day already, but I have to add another one given the phone call I just received.
Person of the Day # 2: My amazing Nan.
She just called me to say that if my wonderful other half isn’t doing anything this evening, I can ring her from her landline because she gets free evening calls and I can have two hours of talking to her.
She just thought it would be nice because she knows how much I must be missing her and she doesn’t like the thought of us not talking. She doesn’t realise I guess that we do talk quite regularly, but that’s not the point. It was too effing sweet. Talk about tug at my heart-strings, Nan!
She still thinks she’s in the Second World War, she has a mouth like a sewer, is occasionally homophobic and racist (even though she likes us gays now…she can’t help it!) but she is one of the loveliest people on the planet and I love her a stupid amount!