I have no time to blog properly today. It's 9.28pm on the day before xmas eve, I've just finished my pressie shopping and need to start wrapping. I also need to get the ham out of the oven that I have just finished glazing and start getting everything ready for xmas day because between now and then it goes - sleep, gym, work, drink, dinner, drink, sleep, xmas!!- with no gaps in between for self indulgent babble.
But I did recently find this gem from my ancient MySpace page.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Monday: the day of rest. . . .
Current mood: contemplative
I have a love/hate relationships with Mondays. Late Sunday nights I lie in bed pondering what Mondays really mean to me.
Half of me sees Mondays as a relief. If it's Monday, it means I don't have to drink again until Friday, (or thursday or Wednesday, rarely tuesday, hardly ever Monday night.)
And not drinking until Friday, (fingers crossed) means that i probably wont injure myself, offend anyone, tell anyone what I really think of them or comment on anyones breasts.
It also means I won't be spending any time with my head resting on the toilet seat pondering why our landlord chose to paint the bathroom a sickening lilac.
But then again, Mondays mean i have to put clothes on, find all the things I lost over the weekend (shoes, my car, sunglasses, sanity, sense of reason) and get myself to TAFE. I have to think, (or at least appear to be doing so) I have to remember all the things i did't do the week before and neatly write them in my diary in a "to do List," next to all the things I didn't do the week before that. Monday means I have to feel guilt and a sense of responsibility.
I just don't know what to think about Mondays.
Still don't.
No comments:
Post a Comment