The motherfucker of all mornings..

...is what I had this morning.

(I may have to re-think this whole Title... .... Blog thing)

Having said that, it's the evening now so I'm kind of over it. Suffice to say, everything went wrong this morning, from waking up late for work to not being able to find any underwear, to falling asleep on the bus and taking 2 stress-filled hours longer to get to work only to discover that work was cancelled, and if I had just checked my answerphone I would have known that. Also, on the journey home I decided I was going to do something productive with my day anyway, to make myself feel less annoyed for having missed a lie-in opportunity, like clean the flat, or find all my underwear and put it in a drawer, or at least make some sort of delicious extravagant meal to eat while watching Jeremy Kyle on the sofa. However, I fell promptly asleep the minute I got in the flat, and have only just woken up. So I've slept through the entire productive part of the day, and am awake in time to do nothing all evening, before tossing and turning til 4am in the knowledge I have to be up at 7 to relive this entire charade of a routine.

I also discovered, upon being woken up at 6 by my flatmate slamming the front door (prick), that I can't live here any more. Not in the literal sense of can't as, well, I can. Nobody's throwing me out or anything, it just suddenly occured to me that living here is slowing destroying my soul, and has been for the past 2 years. Which is a rubbish thing to realise at 6am when you're half asleep, raging mad at your flatmate but haven't got enough energy to do anything about it, and were pretty sure when you went to sleep the night before, that everything was hunkydory. So I fell asleep sobbing into my pillow in pure frustration, fatigue and self-pityingness (pretty sure thats not a word) with the knowledge somewhere in the back of my mind that there was nothing I could do about any of these things.

Anyway I'm ranting a little, but Ive decided I'm going to stop apologising and holding back about being frustrated with life - nobody holds back when theyre satisfied and happy with life, so why should the other end of the spectrum be any different? (I don't actually feel that strongly about it, but the thought occured as I was typing and came out a little too deliberately). But never mind, it's a good point and I'm gonna go with it - no holding back. Or apologising about stuff. Or something.

Another thing that makes this day so rubbish is that I realised my full length mirror had been tilted to a weird angle that made everything a bit long and drawn-out, so put it back to normal - only to discover that Ive gotten kind of fat. And had only not realised because my mirror had been inadvertantly lying to me. And yes evidently, I trust my reflection in a dusty Ikea £12.99 mirror more than I do my own god-given eyes. (I don't know why I wrote god-given, I'm an Atheist. Christ, that Catholic programming runs deep!) Anyway, so I'm fat. Well, chubby round the edges, and us short people can't get away with chubby round the edges. It's like, either dedicate properly and become a jolly little fat cherub, or a a svelte little elven thing. There's no middle ground for the short. And I cannot pull off jolly - so I'm left with the option of getting fit and dieting. And, as a full-time smoker (it's not a hobby, it's a life choice) the idea of running around in lycra lifting things up and putting them down again, makes me want a cigarette and a bit of a sit-down. And as a bit of a foody and more importantly, a human being, the idea of being hungry all day just doesn't seem logical. But hey maybe I'm just rationalising being too lazy to get up off the couch.