Sunday, 27 February 2011

Traditional Blogging

I was doing my daily bit of blog-stalking, and it has occurred to me that I have never done one of those 'What I Did Today' blogs. Really, they were the original point of blogging. So I'm going to have a good old go at it.

Good luck, me.

Right, well. Today, I got up at 3pm. It's Saturday, so it's mostly ok. The reason that I got up so late was entirely someone else's fault. My mother's. Here comes the back story...

The day before yesterday was my sister's 10th birthday. I don't really want to be ten again, but it was still a bit depressing because the thing about having younger sisters is that you are constantly reminded that you are old. Sometimes you feel like you could definitely - in a court of law - justify locking them in cupboard for a few years. At least until they get eye-wrinkles too. You don't though. Especially if you are scared of your mum, like I usually am.
Speaking of mum, here is the part that was her fault: she allowed my aforementioned sister to have a sleepover. MY GOD. She was quite wishy-washy about the whole thing, and kept trying to placate me by saying things like "Oh there'll only be four of them!" and "You won't even know they're here!" and, of course, "They're sleeping downstairs, we won't be able to hear them."  

The sleepover happened last night and, in actual fact, the four of them - who we apparently wouldn't be able to hear - stayed up until 6.30am. That's right. In the morning. And we COULD hear them.

Laughing, by the way, is the most annoying sound in the world when you are not even a little bit amused yourself.

This afternoon, when I managed to drag myself up at the quite reasonable hour of 3pm, I was almost immediately accused of laziness. Not one single person congratulated me on the massive amount of personal restraint that I had undertaken during the night. And neither did anyone comment on how radiant I looked, despite being screamed awake for the entire night.
I congratulated myself, though, by making myself sausages on toast. I pretended that it was part of my diet by using brown bread, but I secretly knew that it wasn't. I had a bit of cake too. I told myself that it was because I needed the sugar. It wasn't. I just wanted some cake.
That bit of cake was essentially the most exciting thing that happened all day.