Routine

Not such a long time between posts – at least I don’t think it is, right?

Anyway, not too much is going on in my life atm, the weather is warm, the house is overheated, I am having five ice-cold showers a day and unwanted relatives are inviting themselves to stay in our spare room.

This weekend I have been finding it really hard to cope with the weather. I know in comparison with some places English weather is rather cold, but I am a winter baby through and through, and find that anything over 60degrees is cause for lack of sleep, irritability, tears (because of the lack of sleep) and a chronic desire to throw myself into the sea (because it’s cold, but the pollution admittedly puts me off). If only we had a shower at work, I would spend all my time drying off from having shower after shower after shower rather than sitting at my desk frying in the skin prickling heat.

This weekend has also found us the unwilling hosts (well, me at least) of family from New Zealand. Every few years this particular cousin flies over and invites himself to stay at my nan’s. The rest of the time he can’t be bothered to have anything to do with us, he phones at Christmas but that’s it, and then every three years or so he flies over, and partakes of our hospitality. Anyway, I have a set routine on the weekends, it tends to run along the lines of “I do what I want, when I want, with whom I want (although Travis Fimmel wouldn’t be turned down should he decide to turn up with last minute plans) and blow anyone else”. I think at the age I have now reached I am entitled to this particular life. I am an adult with no children, and therefore I should be allowed to arrange my own life. Anyway, yesterday evening, my weekend tv schedule having finally become organised, I sat down to watch the last episode of a drama called Drop Dead Gorgeous I have been watching it for the last three weeks and last night was the last one of the first series, it was set to be dramatic, with a cliffhanger ending, which I wanted to see. The programme hasn’t been on more than five minutes before my grandmother comes upstairs, walks into my room (without knocking I might add) and starts on about how I am being rude to our guest. Our guest? I was not aware that I had invited him to stay. In fact, I believe I told her that he was her guest and that as it was my weekend I was going to do exactly what I always did, which included watching my tv programmes and writing. When I told her that the last episode of my show had started, that I was watching it, then having a cold shower and going to bed as I wasn’t sleeping well courtesy of the heat, well you could have knocked her down with a feather. I am sorry, I don’t like him, I am not going to willingly sacrifice what pathetic time I get to do my own thing out of the week doing things that she thinks I should do for anything or anyone. I know that it sounds selfish, but I think that after doing everything for everyone for the last 32 years I have finally grown wise and stood up for myself. Sure, it may sound rude to some, but why the f*ck should I sacrifice my tiny portion of 48 hours to the God of annoying relatives who don’t know when they are better off staying away…my mum can’t stand him, in fact, none of his British cousins can. My nan isn’t even related to him except through a marriage that ended in divorce when he was 10.

Not much is happening at the moment, the heat is getting to me, which I have already said. My nan is getting to me – something else I have already said. I went out on Friday night and drank for England (except not in the “Yay, we’re in the world cup way”, rather in the “Yay, we lost” way – although we hadn’t played at that point), but I had no hangover, and apart from a dry mouth which I alleviated by drinking a smoothie of apple, strawberry, blueberry and cranberry on Saturday morning, I was fine, no hangover, nothing to show that I had been out – not even a phonenumber from some random guy! 😦 Oh well, today is “appointment with mr shrink” day…I have 15mins until I have to be out the door and telling him how hard I am working at being normal…think I will manage it?

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