September 02, 2002 - 10:47 AM
Welcome to yet another Monday morning.
I awoke with a headache.
It's not going away.
I cuddled a very sick SK for a while and then dragged myself from the bed to have a shower that I didn't need and then sauntered around the house naked as I pulled bits and pieces from the dryer and out of the spare room where I throw (literally) all the dry clean clothes.
I ended up finding my black chami and bell-sleeved shirt and my new "fake" denim jeans which are vaguely dressy enough to wear to work. If I wear them with my black boots or heels, no one bats an eyelid. So this means I can be comfy and happy at work. Yay.
Anyway... sauntered around naked for a while longer and then went and brushed out my hair and then decided on the spur of the moment to apply some makeup.
Shock horror. Ren is wearing makeup. A bit of shadow and lippy never hurt before and I like the way it brings out my eyes since it's one of the few pretty things about me.
Then I called Mum, inadvertantly waking Erica up as Mum was in the shower and no one was answering the phone. So she grunted the affirmative at me and then I had some breakfast, sorely tempted to go back to bed and spend the day at home with SK and eat cookie dough.
I didn't stay home and I didn't eat the cookie dough.
I'm here. In this hellhole dealing with yet another headache.
Sympathy pains for Spectre maybe? Most likely.
This is really interesting shit, isn't it?
I wish I could write. I want to write something fantastic.
I look at Scrawl and think "Oh shit, look at all the writing these people are doing..." and I haven't touched a keyboard to do any serious writing for months.
I guess I can't bring myself to do it anymore, just like I've grown overly tired with the photography business.
It's a love/hate relationship.
I hate it right now though, haven't gotten any good results in my photography for too long and it's battering at my confidence behind the lens. I think I might try and set something up - still life.
So an inside macro shot or something. Practice with flash a little more.
I honestly feel... fucked up. I do. Depression set in weeks ago and while I put on a brave face and the occasional forced smile, there's no shaking the feeling that something is wrong with me.
Unlike some, I don't go to blaming this feeling on anyone else, nor do I fish for sympathy or compliments.
Unlike some, I know this is all me.
I need a good kick up the arse again, from whom I don't know - for what reason? I don't know that either. Pick one, there's many.
One thing's for sure, I'm tired of feeling this way.
