Monday, 30 April 2012

Actually Fine

It’s been a while. I hope you’re well.

I’m fine. As usual.

Unlike the last time that I told you I was fine, this time I really am.

That’s not to say I’m completely stable or anything - and I imagine that I will only ever achieve such a state of being with the assistance of heavy-duty medication - but I’m not upset about that boy anymore.

So that’s good.

Actually though, now that we’ve brought it up, I am beginning to wonder whether I was ever really upset about him in the first place.

I think I’ve just had too much time on my hands, to be honest.

It’s genuinely terrifying to spend as much time with yourself as I do. Especially when you are already a bit unbalanced.

The first week or so away from university was tolerable. Even enjoyable. I was probably talking to the dog a bit too much, and I couldn’t stay out of the kitchen, but I was managing to limp through life. After that, though, things got a bit dull and I quickly discovered that there is only so much weight you can put on before all the joy is removed from comfort eating.

In situations like this, most of you will have no idea what kind of ridiculous memories your brain is capable of dredging up just to entertain itself for an afternoon. You might think that you know exactly what I'm talking about, but wait until you've spent four weeks alone with absolutely no purpose.Your brain saves up some extra special stuff for times like that, let me tell you.

I got upset by a shoe yesterday. A SHOE.

It was on the floor, I tripped over it. Then my brain got involved to ensure that I was provided with enough devastating romance-based memories – most of which were only vaguely attached to said shoe - to render me damn-near inconsolable for several hours.

You can blame that on the depression if you like, but it’s definitely being exacerbated by cabin fever.

x

Tuesday, 17 April 2012

I'm Fine

So, you know the score by now.

I fall for someone, they’re interested for a while, and then something better comes along. Sometimes it's more complicated than that, but why quibble?

I’m alright though. I was upset at first. Hysterical, you might say. But now I’m just a bit bored of it. Bored of the constant sinking feeling, the hole in my chest and that mild panic that sets in whenever I accidentally think about him.

I should probably make a point of saying that we were never actually officially a thing.

If you ask me, I think the lack of communication is what killed it. If you ask him, it was my absolute inability to believe a single word that anyone says to me.

He’s got this new girlfriend now. She’s not what you'd expect. Not quite as pretty, not quite as clever, but somehow a much better fit.

And I’m fine with it.

Fine.

I’m not stupid enough to wait around and hope she turns out to be awful, although the thought has crossed my mind more than once. But, logic aside, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s with the wrong girl.

Whatever. This appalling excuse for a blog post was just to update you all on the little ray of hope that we all had back there.

And to tell you that I’m fine.

Because I am.

I’m fine.

x

Friday, 13 April 2012

Falling

My mother met with an accident today. Rather brilliantly, while speaking to a workman, she pointed skyward, lost her balance and proceeded to fall backwards into the garden from the top of our front steps.

(She has injured her arm and various other body parts. I’m sure she’d love to tell you about it, but I am bored to tears with it all.)

We have, essentially, put this ridiculous fall down to the magical, mysterious powers of Friday the 13th.

ACute Injury, Gil Elvgren

Despite having a pleasant day myself, with no injuries thus far, this incident has brought to mind all of the best falls that I have suffered. You will soon see that I have inherited my balance from my mother, so there has been no shortage of such events.

Therefore, good people, in celebration of Friday the 13th, and of having enough bad luck to live as though every day has such superstitious significance, I have compiled a list of the best five falls I have ever had (in chronological order).

*a tense silence descends*

5. When I was fifteen, while flipping my hair about in the wind and attempting to look alluring and mysterious in the direction of a boy, I lost my footing on the edge of the school field and rolled down a sizeable hill. In fact, such was the size of the hill that, by the time I had managed to roll all the way to the bottom, the entire school had managed to gather themselves at the top of it to stare down at me.

4. In college I decided that I was in love with a boy called Tom. One thing led to another, and those things led to a situation that saw me leaning through a window, giving him a quick snog before his teacher came back into the classroom. Inexplicably, during the snog, I fell backwards – no idea how or, indeed, why – and his lips were so fully locked on mine that poor Tom was dragged halfway through the aforementioned window and left dangling as his ridiculous girlfriend lay on the floor dying of shame.

3. In my third year of university, I braved arctic weather conditions to go and procure some chocolate milkshake from the shop. Halfway across the square, I slipped HARD and hurt my buttock-area SO MUCH that I couldn’t stand up. I sat there being helpless for a while and then managed to gather the inner-strength necessary to crawl my way to the shop. I don’t know how many witnesses there were.

2. In the same year, and not long after, I made the mistake of going back to the very same shop, in the very same weather conditions, and slipped AGAIN. This time, though, I slipped on the stairs. This was much nicer because, even though I have never been bruised so badly IN MY LIFE, sitting crying on some stairs is a bit less embarrassing than sitting crying in the middle of Alexandra Square.

1. Quite recently, perhaps a couple of months ago, I was doing a jog. I had decided, against all my better judgement, to Get Fit. (You are probably aware that I am currently less fit that I was when I started that life plan, so it obviously worked VERY WELL.) During my jog my knee started to feel a bit funny. About twenty minutes in, it felt SO funny that I knew I was going to fall over. I knew it. Instead of stopping, which you would think was the natural thing to do in such a situation, I soldiered on. Several moments later, as I was being jogged past by a good percentage of the football team, my body and my brain had a disagreement. My body, in pain as it was, decided to stop. My brain, as vain as it is, decided to keep running and look sexy about it. Confused, I attempted to do BOTH THINGS. Long story short, I took out two footballers and lost several layers of skin from the palms of my hands.

Pro Jogging Tip: Stay upright, always.

x