 |
| via google |
This is what I learned today:
Astrid
+
11 hr shift
+
fast food
+
bad news from home
+
being home alone
=
major anxiety and insomnia.
Also:
Mc Donalds breakfast smells and tastes like fart.
Never leave tradies unattanded.
Sumo salad is delish.
Sparkly Dorothy shoes are the shit.
I HATE CHILDREN!
On my way home from work I went into a road rage frenzy which resulted in major speeding and tears streaming down my face because I had to stay back and couldn't really say bye to the hubby, something I thought was essential to both his and my survival at the time. Oh lack of sleep, the things you do to me....
So now I am home alone. In fact, I am home alone for the next couple of days and I am not very happy. Tell me about dependance... And while I am looking forward to filling my days with pure selfishness I am dreading going to sleep. I have this thing where I wake up in the middle of the night after having a nightmare and cannot figure wether it's dream or reality and then shit myself and have to wear the blanket over my head as a protective shield, which prevents me from falling asleep because a) I sweat so much and b) I cannot breathe and there I am, poor sausage, staying awake for hours in my hot as hell perspiration-cocoon.
So when thinking of all the dingy places I stayed in while I travelled (which included but aren't limited to a tent with a wooden floor and pillow, a Kiwi's cockroach infested house, the back seat of a Van, a bus stop in Coffs Harbour with my handbag stuffed down my sleeping bag, another one in Cairns) I cannot believe that I am unable to fall asleep by myself in my own home's safety. If only I wouldn't have read all those scary 'Tales of the Crypt'-books as a kid...
Onto other things
I got a really cute belated birthday present from one of my lovely co-workers, which was totally unexpected! Will show you a photo tomorrow!
My heels (and I am talking bout the heels that are attached to my body) are unable to carry me around the house so I will just camp here on the lounge until I have to pee.
Oh deliriousness. Here we go again...
NOW:
In honour of Layne and also Kurt. Cause without Kurt I wouldnt've experienced Layne's greatness.
Aaaaand the first couple of chords instantly bring back all my teenage memories. The Cobain Posters. The late nights listening to Grunge through my headphones. The numerous diary entries. The psychotic outbursts. Ah, good times. I like thinking back, my Mum's probably very glad hell is over
Good night my wombat warriors.
I love you all.