Today is the day I've been expecting to arrive sooner or later. The day when I'm lost for blog post words.
So I'm just going to tell you this:
My hair is a mess.
I have to work when I want to write.
I want to write every spare moment I have but I also want a holiday.
I can't find anyone to look after my dog so that I can go on holiday and I'm pissed off.
I have to pay stupid amounts of money to the government for being self-employed - BASTARDS.
I want to buy myself DVDs - simple little pleasures but I can risk not having spare money in case something breaks - because something always breaks when you buy something unnecessary - it's just the law of the land.
My dog's claw dug into my right middle finger tip this morning (HOW?) and it hurts to type with it.
The dishes have piled up and I can't bear to look.
We need milk and I can't be bothered getting any - so I'm drinking black coffee - yuk.
I have mail waiting for me to pick it up at the post office and I can't be bothered getting it - for freakin' sake just learn to deliver to people's doors like normal countries. Ugh.
My wallet is empty - need to go to the bank. If I go to the bank, I might as well go to the post office, and if I go there, I might as well get some milk. No. I won't go to the bank. (Spilio? You got any cash?)
I should finish writing these teacher's notes. Yes. Can't be avoided. (takes sip of coffee, UGH! no milk! Oh, we don't have any. Perhaps I should go buy some. Spilio, you got any cash? Oh, don't worry, I'll go to the bank. What's that? You want me to pick up your mail? Really? I have to walk all the way down there? Crap. I might as well get mine, then.)
Life is a monotonous pain in the butt today. But that being said, I think I like it. Does it really have to take a whole blog post of rant to make me realise the goodness in not having to commute to work and the goodness in being able to cuddle my dog whenever I like?
Ah, Holly Bolly Wally Wood, I wuv you ... you always make evewyfing wuvwey. Thanks for hewping me wif my work, I couldn't do it wifout you ...