Gah. You know when you just have one of those slumps. When you just hit a wall and feel wretched (like Cher in Clueless….”I felt useless, and impotent, and I really, really hate that….”). Well that was me yesterday night and this morning. I watched bad TV, I comfort ate (grrrrr), I got thoroughly depressed over completely random and insignificant things…
1) The London fiasco. I was going to hit London, but it turns out the trains, they have gone crazy, therefore no London today. Now, I’m going in later this week, and the trip today was last minute to say the least, but I got into such a toddler tantrum with my self. “I…want…to….go…..noooooooooooooow!!!1!!!!11!!” (am such a baby when I’ve got the blues).
2) The fact all of my friends round here are away this week. See above, this week is going to be crazy, but I got into a funk because everyone was away. I’m citing PMS and the blues. And the fact that I’m a total labrador who gets down when people are away…
3) Getting back to little village. I had such a good time at home, and loved catching up with old friends – I think part of me had a bit of delayed homesickness at being back here.
4) He who I have a crush on. He’s not talking to me for some reason. Now today, in the clear headedness of Sunday afternoon I can think of the myriad reasons why this might be. But last night, in the throes of the blues, it was all about the “He hates me. Am loser. Boohoo.” I may be right after all, but frankly, I am starting to get beyond caring. He’s just another prat in a long and illustrious line of prats. I am pretty much destined to have crushes on men who are prats, but I’m damned if I’m gonna get depressed about it. He’s all I want to settle down, but also sleep with 18 year olds. Whatever, none of my beeswax, but hell man, please commit to a route. And hormones, please stop that little heart skip I get sometines when I’m with him. So teenage, so unecessary.
After twelve hours of this nonsense, I decided to shut. the hell. up. And took myself for a walk through to bigish town to grab the Sunday papers. 4 miles later (I took the long route) and I am feeling 100% better. Lots of fresh air and listening to music on my new and spangly mp3 player was exactly what I needed. Ah, the joys of lipsynching badly to Laura Pausini as you stide through the hills. Like Lizzie Bennett, I do love a good walk. Got myself the Sunday Times also, and some stuffing (am going to make myself a roast dinner!) and fruit (just because). So after this it’s going to be a case of parking in front of the telly, watching a combo of My Girl 2 (Anna Chlumsky is one of the few celebs I’ve ever been compared to), The Princess Bride (who doesn’t love this movie. Cary Elwes, people!), Everybody Hates Chris, Porky’s (I’ve never seen it before, but have heard good things), The Queen at 80 (mmmm, documentary fun!), The South Bank Show (Dusty Springfield profile tonight!) and Green Wing (not sure about season 2 yet, but I bought season 1 – which I loved – on DVD and am steadily working through it); reading the papers; writing Easter cards; and calling people.
I knew the fresh air would help. Am so easy to decipher.