It's been so long since I did so many things. Like last night for instance. It was Friday night and usually I live it up somewhere or the other. But by the time I battled rush hour and got home, my body just refused to move. "Go wherever you like, " it told me, "but don't expect me to come along."
So I called my friends and said,"Sorry count me out," changed into tracks and a t-shirt and sat in front of the television. Ah, bliss.
It's been so long since I sat home on Friday night, so long since I had lemon tea with honey and watched The Apprentice (which was brilliant last night, by the way. Great advice too, with Donald Trump telling the girl who he fired: "You just didn't fight for yourself.")
And then I started thinking about my job and about my life and where I would be in five years. You know the kind of thinking you can only do in your bedroom with Mozart's Symphony No. 40 in the background, your phone silent and your book face down on the floor.
They've got this new policy at work, come in at 9 am and leave at 5. Okay in principle I suppose. But not so okay in practice, because as a reporter, you'll have evening assignments at six which finish by 8.30 so by the time you're done filing the story etc, you've worked a 12-13 hour day. I swear, they're going a little mad.
What's next, you ask? Well, rumour has it they are introducing a 'corporate dress code'. One of the things I love about my job is that I can wear what I want. Like today I'm in an old sweatshirt with brown cords and long earrings. That has to stop with the new dress code apparently--- trousers and a shirt or some such madness.
God, I don't know why I didn't just stay safely in college, piling up degree after degree. There are some days when I feel so wrong for this job, so like this is such a big mistake. Restlessness, maybe... does everyone feel this way too?
In other news, I didn't mention that I had joined jazz classes. Yes, every Sunday my body goes through a series of movements, which on everyone else looks like dance, but on uncoordinated me, looks like convulsions. But it's fun. And rather exhilerating. And the instructor has such a cute ass! Guys usually don't, but you should see his. I lech freely when he's demonstrating something in front of the class. Mmmm... :)
Oh and I finally bought a 10-CD changer for my car. I've always been a cassette person, but the joys of not rewinding and fastforwarding! The joys of not changing sides! In fact I think it deserves some poetry. Here goes:
Foot on clutch, I look
At the scooterist near me
And the bus beyond
There's a woman trying to cross the road
She pauses because of the honking and smiles
There's a beggar at my window
And he's asking me for anything at all
And then the light changes and the cacophony rises
And I press 'Next Song' and glide away.
Okay, pretty bad, but you get the picture. (Ooh, totally unintentional on my part but just look at all the first letters of the poem. Pretty cool, eh?)
It's been so long since I blogged like this. So long since my life was uneventful, so long since I could speak of my everyday life without it being so long that I had to break it up into episodes. So long since I thought about my mundanities.
In short: I'm ready to take a break.