1. Mirrors. Spent the morning in and out of change rooms, and thus spent the morning being CONFRONTED by myself from all unimaginable, horrible angles, in despairingly bright light. I feel terrible making the claim I’m about to make, given that I do know there’s more to life than what I’m currently talking about, but it was TRAUMATISING. I am a jaundice-suffering piece of limp, off steak with a sea-horse shaped back. I am disgusting and vulgar and want to please pretty please seek refuge in a cave forever more.
2. Impulse purchase. As a direct result of the torment which I directed upon myself in my decision to mingle with the sale rack, I ended up making one of those impulse buys that send you loopy and dithering with guilt for days, especially because the purchase item ended up not being from the sale rack at all. Where is the logic in this, you ask? With all the mirrors and lights, etc, wouldn’t you walk out feeling displeased and unsatisfied with everything you tried? Well, not necessarily. I was so relieved to get clothes on and done up that my attitude was totally PRO-CLOTHING. If they were selling onesies in my size I would have taken three of them.
3. Subsequent revelation. So I got a bit freaked out after this whole expensive affair and ran all the way home, squealing like a piglet, and experienced crashing thoughts that I am only half a person, and that half of me is not very decent, and I cannot, if I am to be the person I want to be, continue to fill the void in my life with material obsession. WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE? WHERE AM I GOING? WHAT GOOD AM I DOING? This may seem like an overreaction, but I promise it’s all very well-connected. In true buyer’s remorse fashion, I was trying to justify the ridiculous dress with thoughts that it’s a timeless piece, a classic, and that I will wear it forever. But then I thought: WHOA, BETTY! Do you really want to work in an office for the REST OF YOUR LIFE? And then I almost wet my pants.
4. Coffee. Somewhere during the course of the morning I indulged in some form of coffee, a drink I admit is not really suited to my weak stomach and highly-strung nervous system. But it’s a Saturday and I thought it won’t matter if I’m a little over-excited, a little bit edgy. Who doesn’t like a jitterbug? Me, it turns out. I don’t like it. And combined with all other attacks to my nerves, I really don’t like it.
5. Nemo is lost. And despite what that deceptive movie may have tried to tell you, Nemo will not be found. Today was going to be the day, but I am mournful of the fact that it will never be the day, because I cannot make a Nemo costume, not in this sad lifetime. I am not talented when it comes to fish. If only they had legs and necks and weren’t so sideways.
6. This list. I’ve been reduced to writing self-involved ramblings. If I weren’t already convinced that the quality of this blog has been steadily declining, I am now. I am here despondently resigned to the fact that I will not go out with a bang and leave you children begging for more. No. The last of my lists are coming out like dribble. Distracting, messy, and you’ll just want to tell me to hurry up and wipe it away and be done with it already.
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