Today, omg omg omg, we won the pub quiz. I was shocked. I thought we'd got about 5 right. Clearly, my faith is lacking somewhat. We won a grand total of £40, which, split 10 ways, doesn't add up to a lot, but still. Pretty impressive. Although I think the fact that we were the largest team and we're MASTERS students probably had something to do with it... Lording it over groups of three eighteen year olds is probably the new vogue. Let's make it so. You're born in 1988? I'm better than you. Yeah.
I can't seem to shake this malaise. People keep asking me if I'm okay. Well, actually, I say "people" when I mean "realistically, not that many people but I'll exaggerate if I want to". I was described as "edgy" today. What does that mean? I find it hard to get out of bed, although the sub-zero conditions in the flat don't make it a lot easier. This morning I wandered about the flat and put off making calls by reading last weekend's Guardian magazine (can you see a recurring theme?) and then frantically typing letters to people using one hand as the other was hidden under the blanket. It's freezing in the flat but I refuse to put the heating on, especially after last winter's £400 gas bill. Nah mate. I'll take hypothermia. At least it's FREE. Anyway, the malaise isn't shifting. I feel really bad. I am so apathetic about everything. Meh (indeed).
The maliaise does lift a little when I get my arse out of the flat and I do slightly more constructive things. I went to the gym today, though I started feeling really weird and a bit panicked. Still, I had my super-cool knitted shorts on. I love those shorts. I don't care that they cost far more than you'd think, per square inch of fabric, or that they're handwash only (it's a lie, I put them in the washing machine and they're fine), or that they're ridiculously warm. I am known for these shorts. These shorts are a part of me. I wear my shorts with pride. Although I suspect I would wear them with even more pride if I were to lose weight. But that would involve kicking my addiction to yoghurt covered raisins. And that, my friends, is an impossibility. To some people, I am known for my "middle-class, guardian reader snacks". It's like the tupperware, LSE library 2005. Me + tupperware = yoghurt covered (I think it was) apricots = good times. Of course, me + Red Bull + Pro Plus + dissertation = spaz times. Good god, I think it's been engrained on my memory. I should probably start work on my dissertation NOW to avoid that. Unfortunately, my general brain-fuck-up, aka dyspraxia, means I can't/won't, and thus the inevitable spaz out will ensue.
After the quiz, we wanted to watch the Bond film again, but it was sold out until the 23:00 showing. I would have been happy with that (it's probably warmer in the cinema than at home) but there was all this talk of night bus booooo, so we didn't. Ice cream was mentioned as a possibility, so we went to Sainsbury's and got ice creams. There's something so satisfying about an ice cream, especially out of season. Things out of season are always great - like indoor picnics cos it's raining outside, or hot food in the summer. There's also something equally nice about wandering about London. I think, armed with a travelcard, it would be completely satisfactory to wander about forever, given the correct company of course. I think my current plans for the future are to wander about - first London, then Hong Kong, then China, then who knows where. I'll occasionally take pictures on my phone and I'll drink lots of tea and have plenty of pairs of fingerless gloves. Sometimes I'll make people laugh and they'll take me out for dinner. Other times I'll have a gourmet meal of lemonade and crackers, or whatever else I fancy. Of course, by then I will have overcome my shyness and will be charming, pretty, thin and witty. I shoudl really stop dreaming about a fantasy existence and get on with my real one. In other words, shut up and do your homework.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment