It may get hairy…

Posts tagged ‘Shakespeare’

To be, or not to be… a slug

For the last few months, I’ve been sinking into a melancholic abyss. I get lethargic and fatter – couch potato takes on a new meaning as I gorge on potatoes. Alright, in all honesty, I’ve been eating really well and just continuously gaining pounds. Now, don’t give me the exercise lecture, been there, done that – it didn’t help either and yes, I did it for a significantly long period of time.

Anyway, this combined with my total lack of motivation has made me akin to a rather large, rather red, slug. So imagine this slug can’t find a way out of its slugness and sits at its laptop, day in, day out, feeling increasingly sorry for itself. Until one day, it communes with a non-slug that it really doesn’t like and all of a sudden the slug is filled with anger and a desire to not be slug-like, so that it can compete with the non-slug and show the non-slug it is so much better than it and is, in fact, a butterfly… or some equivalent happy, bright, non-slug like thing.

So, it is with this burst of motivation, anger and jealousy driving me on that I start upon my journey to salvation. My first step towards freedom, self-love and all that gushy stuff. This drive of non-slug-like envy raises me up to do what I have to do! To take my first step into the future that is mine to hold and so today, I took this first step. I grabbed my future by the balls and told it ‘I am the captain of my fate!’ And so today….

I did the dishes.

Now, I’d like a round of applause and someone to come do my laundry – there’s quite a lot.


‘The Taming of the Shrew’

Please excuse the decidedly corny title, but we found a shrew in the pool today, still alive, and the title seemed appropriate, especially since I seem to trying to tame everything else in my life.

I’m already at work. This is never a good sign of the day to come. I’m here because some particularly noisy cretins decided to have a gossip session…underneath my cardboard box (I live on the ‘first’ floor, in essence, but the ‘ground’ floor remains a husk, waiting to be made into an apartment).

Along with the sweeping, these little gossip sessions have become part of my daily grumbles, but this morning I would have none of it. I stormed to my window and yelled, ever so nicely, to shut the [insert expletive here] up, as it’s 6.30am.

There was barely an ebb in the flow of conversation. Either they have particularly bad hearing, or really couldn’t give a flying beep at a rolling doughnut (please excuse the Stephen King plagiarism). So, in my fit of near rage, I hurried to find some clothes, gave up and decided see-through pyjama bottoms would have to do. Until I happened to glance in the mirror and nearly reeled myself through the bedroom window. I’d forgotten about my swim yesterday and, whilst I had washed the chlorine out of everything else, I’d not done my hair. I had about a half a dozen cork screws framing my face, smeared mascara, see-through polka dot pjs and a set of matching luggage under my eyes, big enough to have bought at Harrods. By the time I had managed to get over my shock, wipe away a bit of the masses of masacara and find the ever illusive bra, I was out of energy…and had summoned up enough logic to realise that accosting two unknown men, with no one else around, wasn’t perhaps my best idea ever.

So I sat down to compose a particularly nasty text to Infernal. Sadly, it turned out to not be so nasty, but I did elude to the sweeping and asked him (nicely…I just can’t stop asking nicely!) to please get his ‘guys’ to keep it down pre-8am, as I had once again been woken up by their gossip session. The text was long, but no more than double the average length. I hit ‘send’ and immediately felt relief.

Until the ‘ping’ came, informing me the message wasn’t sent. Apparently, my phone believes that having enough airtime for 4-5 texts, you aren’t allowed to send any. It keeps blocking me at R5. At R5, I am allowed to go onto Facebook, Twitter and even Google+, but God (title cased only out of respect for others) forbid I try to send a text. I try again. It fails. Does anyone else see a sneaky hate spiral coming on?

I now can’t wait. I get dressed, hurriedly grabbing whatever I can find (I end up looking like a monochromatic witch) and drive off to work.

I get here, load airtime and wait. I want the perfect moment to surprise Infernal with my particularly not-nasty text.

My first cup of coffee arrives. It has no sugar. I could weep.

PS. To quote Benoni Goose, I’m not overly fond of being stalked, or people lurking about on my blog, so please subscribe (email link to the right, or click the elephant, not the mammoth). I don’t do a whole lot of posting, so you become victim of a spam-attack.

On that note, I still have no idea what to do about Mr From a Lesbian. Can I lay a charge of theft, if he’s told me she’s missing? Do I give up? Do I harass him? Please help me out guys. I’m lost and a bundle of emo nerves.

Some kick-ass reading

This post may be of relevance to no one but myself, but I must say, today I am awesome. I am also buggered, for the same reason.

I read an entire novel last night, after returning from work…late.

I like to classify myself as a bit of an English boff. I don’t compare to some of the great minds I studied English with in our Honours’ year, but I do like the classics and love to get my nose stuck into something obscure and intellectual. I read Rushdie for fun, Fowles for insight (please read The Magus. It is one of those novels that may actually change your life…and simultaneously make you doubt the loyalty of your toenails) and I love a bit of Shakespeare when the moment’s right, but I also revel in my cheesy crime and horror novels.

I loved reading as a child, but my passion came when, as a ten-year old, I picked up my first Stephen King: The Tommyknockers (unbeknownst to my mother). A mediocre novel at best, and by far not his best work, but it served to tell a little, rather odd, girl that she was not all that different from others. I was awed by the fact that the characters’ minds seemed to work similarly to mine (that they would suddenly ponder the state of their laundry, whilst aliens attacked, incessantly probing their minds). This was, of course, before they thought of nothing but nursery rhymes and building walls (King is outstanding. He is also strange. And I fully believe he stole the walls thing from Churchill).

Last night, after returning from work at 7.30, I wanted nothing more than to enjoy a glass of  Merlot, whilst reading a chapter or 8 of a new Harlan Coben before I went to bed. His writing style is particularly cheesy, which says nothing of mine, as I felt as I were reading my own work for the first few pages. At around 9pm, I realised that I may have gotten myself into a problem. I couldn’t very well put down a book, when it was about to reveal the ‘who dunnit’ (excuse the vernacular)? At 9.30, a new problem revealed itself – what if there were no ‘who dunnit, ‘ as nobody had, actually, done it?

It wasn’t until midnight that I finally turned the last page, thoroughly pleased with the ending and hit the pillow.

Now, this would not be a problem for a large majority of people, as midnight is not a particularly awful time to hit the sack. For an insomniac, however, it’s a bad, bad idea.

I fell asleep at 2am, filled with thoughts of run away pedophiles and blog writing.

Thus, I am buggered. But I am awesome. I read an entire novel in only a few short hours 😉

*A slight hindsight note: I doubt that I seriously pondered the state of laundry as a ten-year old, but you get the drift. Additionally, this is the second time I have written this blog, as dear HTML decided to hate me and, instead of saving a draft, it published a version I had written an hour previously. A start to a particularly crappy day, that has gotten progressively worse. This second post is much crappier. Apologies. On a last note: anyone who has time, please see if  you have any problems subscribing to my business blog, as I’ve heard there are issues with some and not with others. Don’t worry, you’ll get to unsubscribe if you want. It’s not a spam scam, I’m desperately trying to fix a blog prob – – click the panda.

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