Sunday 21st May 2023, 11.50:
I had one of the most wholesome moments I’ve had in quite a while yesterday. Myself, Kiera, Izzy, Phoebe, Nicola and Milly were in the taxi on the way to Uttoxeter Racecourse with Abba blaring out and detailed discussions about which type of alcohol we should drink in full flow. This is going to sound a bit soppy but I found myself staring out of the window and thinking about how appreciative I was to be in that moment right there, having great fun with great friends on a beautiful, sunny day. Anyway, after 30 seconds or so I returned to the group discussion, which had now moved on to whether we had enough cigarettes to last for the rest of the day, and thought no more of it.
However, once we’d arrived at the racecourse, bought a few bottles of wine (one each, obviously) and found a nice spot on the grandstand, one of the girls (I think it was Izzy but, if I’m completely honest, I can’t remember) remarked how she’d sat thinking to herself in the taxi how happy and grateful she was to be here sharing the day with her friends. Milly (I think it was Milly, I can’t be 100%) then said she’d done exactly the same thing, so I confessed I had also had a similar feeling, and it was honestly so lovely that not only were we all sharing our appreciation of being able to enjoy such a wonderful day, but that we’d all done so individually, at the same time, without even thinking. It was just really, really nice.
I’d love to tell you what a lovely day we all had after all that but myself, Nicola, Phoebe and Izzy all ended up going home early, at different stages, because we were too drunk, so unfortunately the day was cut quite short and I can’t really remember much of what happened whilst I was there. I got home, projectile vomited into the toilet and passed out on the bed fully clothed, so I guess that’s (sort of) the sign of a good night? Well, I say night, I was home by 8pm. A good day?
I’ve been dog sitting for Rich & Lisa this week whilst they’re in Marbella with the family. Unfortunately, I couldn’t go, because it would have stretched my notoriously flexible finances a tad too thin, so I’m obviously incredibly jealous of them all, although I must say I’m quite proud of myself for making the sensible decision and I don’t regret saying no at all. After losing Rocky last year it has been wonderful to spend some time with Ralph, who is quite literally the mardiest dog I have ever met, and it’s weirdly enjoyable having a house to myself, getting a taste of what life will be like when I eventually move out. However, I have decided that won’t be anytime soon, as it’s also made me realise how much I love coming home to my lovely babs.
Tuesday 23rd May 2023, 22.20:
I’m listening to Lana Del Rey again. Someone I tolerate was trying to explain causation vs correlation to me the other day (I never listened in Science at school, believe it or not) and, although I wouldn’t be able to place it properly, I am sure there is some sort of causation or correlation linking my writing, my depression and my indulgence of Norman Fucking Rockwell. That’s the name of the album I’m listening to, by the way, I wasn’t swearing myself – I fucking hate people that swear in their writing for no reason.
It’s my first night at home in a week, as my house/Ralph sitting duties are now complete, and it feels a bit weird. My room feels so cramped after having a whole house to myself for a week, and I’m now certain it has far too much stuff in it, but I love my stuff, and I have nowhere else to put it, so I’m fucked (again with the swearing, how unnecessarily uncouth). I couldn’t afford to move out even if I wanted to, the credit card debts hanging menacingly around my neck like a weight that only gets £500 lighter every month (that was meant to be a pun on £ vs lbs, there, in case you missed how clever it was). It is therefore pointless even considering moving out really, but I do anyway, and I do think I am ready for my own space. Saying that, though, I do love coming home to my lovely babs (two mentions in one blog Hayals, feel the love), and, in all fairness, I’m probably just looking for an excuse to waste money on more crap furniture. Perhaps I just need to find someone to share my life with so we could move out together – actually, come to think of it, I could also do with finding a pig that shits diamonds.
A quick run through of some other things now. I had an epiphany earlier which has simultaneously solved my weight, emotional and financial issues, so I’m happy to say none of those will ever be a problem again – turns out the key to happiness is deep within you all along (who needs a self help book when you’ve got The Lord). I hate golf, it’s a shit sport and I don’t know why I play it, although I do obviously love golf and want to play it again as soon as possible. I am genuinely starting to despise my iPhone as I find myself glued to it, even despite my conscious, constant efforts not to be, and if it wasn’t for Spotify I think I’d be going back to my Motorola flip phone permanently (what an iconic few weeks that was, for those of us that remember). I find it so hard to switch off from technology that I struggle to read as much as I’d like to and it is REALLY starting to PISS me OFF. I’ve been conditionally offered a new job, which is obviously very exciting, but more on that once I’ve had a formal offer (imagine the embarrassment when I don’t get one now). I need to eat out less, I need more money, I need to go to the gym more, I need to read more, I need to stop being so self-critical (my therapist mentioned that, cheeky prick), I need to water my plants, I need to update my Spotify playlists, I need to buy some new gym clothes, I need to tidy my room and I need to read more (I said that twice because I really do). I think what I actually need is another fucking holiday (stop SWEARING). Is anyone still reading at this point? If you are, text me saying “you’re the best writer since Shakespeare” to prove you read it to the end. Go on, you know you want to.
Go and listen to Doin’ Time by Lana Del Rey. I really like that song. H x
