I might die alone, but I'll die happy
I was standing in line in the video* store today and this guy, who was…what the hell is the correct term these days? Cognitively challenged? Anyway, I don’t think it was Downs’ Syndrome or autism, and that’s the limit of my diagnostic skills, so let’s just go with ‘challenged’. Anyway, he came up to me and said What Are The DVDs That You Are Borrowing? I showed him, and he said Oh, and then he asked the woman standing behind me What Are The DVDs That You Are Borrowing? And she showed him, and he said to her Are You Going To Watch Those DVDs With Her? pointing at me, and she said No, and he came back to me and said That Lady Won’t Watch DVDs With You You Will Have To Watch DVDs Alone.
Which obviously injected some cheer into my day.
Strangers informing me of my social pariah status aside, I’m having a wonderful weekend. Friday night I had a stressful afternoon, of the type that leads to brooding and second-guessing, so I employed the completely healthy and not at all substance-abusing method of arriving home, putting on West Wing and pouring myself a large glass of wine.
Since I’m dieting** at the moment, and therefore hadn’t eaten much, this meant that by the time the husband came home two hours later I was into the third glass and extremely tipsy. I babbled at him for an hour, dozed off on his shoulder and then put myself to bed by 9.30pm. I’m totally rock-n-roll, me.
Saturday we were coming home from grocery shopping and decided to stop in at a local winery to see if they were selling unlabelled cases. They were, but they were also selling cheese platters***, and we hadn’t had lunch, and one thing led to another and we found ourselves eating camembert and sliced pink lady apples whilst gazing over rolling hills planted with sauvignon and pinot gris. Sometimes I really loathe my life, I mean, I don’t know how I carry on.
And then today I dropped the husband off at a fun run, drove down to the finish line and watched people run past whilst drinking coffee and reading my novel. It was just like exercising, only without the sweat and sunburn. Well, and the cardiovascular benefits, but let’s not split hairs.
It’s been a good weekend.
*Why are they still called video stores? Mine doesn’t even carry videos any more. It scoffs at such outdated technology. And yet it is a video store. It passeth understanding.
**Sort of. And don’t worry, I won’t get all boring with the diet thing. Why would you care about my physical self? I’m just words on a screen, here.
***Yeah, see, I’m already regretting mentioning the diet. I’m not good at self-deprivation, what can I tell you?
Which obviously injected some cheer into my day.
Strangers informing me of my social pariah status aside, I’m having a wonderful weekend. Friday night I had a stressful afternoon, of the type that leads to brooding and second-guessing, so I employed the completely healthy and not at all substance-abusing method of arriving home, putting on West Wing and pouring myself a large glass of wine.
Since I’m dieting** at the moment, and therefore hadn’t eaten much, this meant that by the time the husband came home two hours later I was into the third glass and extremely tipsy. I babbled at him for an hour, dozed off on his shoulder and then put myself to bed by 9.30pm. I’m totally rock-n-roll, me.
Saturday we were coming home from grocery shopping and decided to stop in at a local winery to see if they were selling unlabelled cases. They were, but they were also selling cheese platters***, and we hadn’t had lunch, and one thing led to another and we found ourselves eating camembert and sliced pink lady apples whilst gazing over rolling hills planted with sauvignon and pinot gris. Sometimes I really loathe my life, I mean, I don’t know how I carry on.
And then today I dropped the husband off at a fun run, drove down to the finish line and watched people run past whilst drinking coffee and reading my novel. It was just like exercising, only without the sweat and sunburn. Well, and the cardiovascular benefits, but let’s not split hairs.
It’s been a good weekend.
*Why are they still called video stores? Mine doesn’t even carry videos any more. It scoffs at such outdated technology. And yet it is a video store. It passeth understanding.
**Sort of. And don’t worry, I won’t get all boring with the diet thing. Why would you care about my physical self? I’m just words on a screen, here.
***Yeah, see, I’m already regretting mentioning the diet. I’m not good at self-deprivation, what can I tell you?
posted by tanya at 9:55 pm
3 Comments:
your footnotes fetish is fast getting...... damn, let me get back to you on that. once you get to four stars (hey, four is good), i will flush you from my favourites. far out, that was fun. i must do this again. on friday.
Awwww that's far from fair. Footnotes facilitate the flow of language.
1) Diets don't count on the weekends - it's been scientifically proven (try not to focus on the details of that bit too much)that as long as you rigorously stick to whatever diet you're following during the week then you can do whatever the hell you like on weekends. Proven. By scientists.
2) Footnotes are good for honing fine motor skills by tapping on the PgDn/PgUp keys, and possibly of benefit to those with short attention spans, but it seems a little last-century not to be using internal hyperlinks... (note: that's not a medical term)
3) I didn't really have a third thing, but it seemed silly to make a numbered list of two items.
Love yer work ;)
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