Slacking once more...
I'm busy procrastinating, and it can't go on much longer. I have things I need to be making and things I should be doing, but thought I best catch up here a bit as well.
I'm still here, still cheesed off, and stuck with a headache that I've had since the day before yesterday. It's probably stress, but I'll get over it with the help of Nurofen, cups of tea and yesterday I had an afternoon nap, which may be repeated today. If I get the time... I'll procrastinate about the nap later.
Yesterday morning I was up bright and early (half past seven in the morning) after a pretty piss-poor night's sleep, for obvious reasons. I was heading into Salisbury as the foot for my sewing machine which I ordered was ready for collection. I took my neighbour's daughter with me for some company, some education (hers) and to give her parents a bit of peace, as Auntie N was taking the middle one, leaving them with just the youngest. I was also meeting up with N to measure a little J for his sailor suit to wear at mummy and daddy's wedding in a couple of weeks...
Oh hell... I don't have much time to make it, but Easter weekend is coming up, so that's 4 days in which to slog my guts out making it... Unless I get my finger out today. It won't take long. Well, the top and trousers won't. The overcoat will be a bit more time with my...
Dun dun DUUUUHHHHH (dramatic music here)
... NEW Overlocker Sewing Machine!
Yup, I went to pick up an £8 foot for my sewing machine and spent another £10 puting a deposit on a new overlocker, which I will be picking up next Saturday and paying the remaining £289 for. One that was £100 less than it's supposed to be. Cool huh? (for real coolness, all you dollar-types out there multiply each of the numbers by two to get an idea of how much I just spent and how much I saved...) OK, not really interesting for all you non-sewing types out there, but the best thing since sliced bread as far as I'm concerned. It's going to save me ages of time and do really neat trimmed, overlocked and rolled hems, vital for those fiddly fabrics that have a habit of fraying as you cut them, never mind pinning and sewing them.
Anyway, Other than the headache, lack of sleep and procrastinating, I'm now waiting for himself to read the previous entry. I'm actually in two minds whether to delete it before he can catch sight of it or not, but if I remove it, he's never going to know how peeved I was right at that point. Or how depressed I am really.
I can be really calm, happy and jovial sometimes. I can be light and airy in my approach to life when I'm dealing with other people. When I'm stuck on my own, it's a different matter though. I'm OK when I'm doing stuff like my sewing. I have to concentrate on what I'm doing and forget all the other niggles. It's a good way to block out stuff, but I really need things to make in order to make it worth my while sitting at my machine when I need to get away from things for a while.
Other times, when I'm angry or upset, when something has happened to drop me into that pit of self-loathing and self-doubt, I withdraw from most things. I'll sit and watch shite on the telly, or I end up blogging, which probably worries people a bit, especially on my really black moments.
Yes, I do sometimes feel like a nothing, like there is nothing really there to validate my life. Sometimes I wish that I could just die, although I'd like not to be dead afterwards, thanks. It's a very odd situation. I'd like to be dead, to be lying in my coffin, to be gone, but to know what's going on because I'm not really dead-dead, just no longer alive in the life I am in. There's no serious thought of suicide, for the simple reason I'm scared of death. Petrified. Totally. I don't want to find out that perhaps there is nothing afterwards, although I do sometimes wonder if people who die really know there has been an ending somewhere or if it's just like going to sleep without waking up.
I have odd thoughts: I watch trains going past and wonder what it would be like to just jump in front of one, what it would feel like, how long it would take for consciousness to fade after life has technically left the building, so to speak. I'd never do it though for one simple reason: I know that brains survive for up to 4 minutes without oxygen (sometimes longer). Can you imagine lying there knowing you are dead and that nothing can be done to make you alive again? How long would those 4 minutes really take? Would they go past in the flash of your life, or would they be glacial in their slowness, accentuating every agony of the dying process? Not my idea of a laugh...
My mum says suicide is stupid, because you don't get to find out what happens next, and how the story ends. I think she's right and I think that's where I get my odd view of things from. If I did something really stupid, what would I be missing out on in the remaining years I should have been living? I've done a lot and been a few places, and there's more out there to be discovered. I'd like to be a someone in the world, with my little business being a name people would associate with beautiful christening gowns and delightful baby clothes. I'd like to travel and visit people. I'd like to carry on with my life, if it's all the same to my darkest thoughts, although it would be nice to have a little happiness and tranquility within myself.
I have to pull myself up by the boot straps every so often. I have to get over the little things and work out what happens next. I have to do so many things for myself. It would be nice to have a little support now and again, but patience is the virtue that I seem to be lacking in...
I wonder sometimes if any of this really makes a difference to me as a person, whether blogging really helps or whether it just ensures that some of my deepest recesses get picked over by others, dissected and examined. I know some worry with some of the things I write, and that's not the intention, so I apologise profusely to those people. I just write what I think. Actions are not necessarily going to follow, unless of course it's things like sewing and general stuff like that. Although procrastinating about those too means things get left...
Well, I think that's enough for today. Things at home are quiet. Texting between me and himself is occurring, although it's silly stuff and nothing serious that should be talked about, but at least it's communication. I even got cuddled in bed last night, although he was asleep. I don't mind. It was nice to be snuggled into for a change and has probably helped me inside somewhere.
I need to stop procrastinating and go make a sailor suit. I'll let you know how it goes...
I'm still here, still cheesed off, and stuck with a headache that I've had since the day before yesterday. It's probably stress, but I'll get over it with the help of Nurofen, cups of tea and yesterday I had an afternoon nap, which may be repeated today. If I get the time... I'll procrastinate about the nap later.
Yesterday morning I was up bright and early (half past seven in the morning) after a pretty piss-poor night's sleep, for obvious reasons. I was heading into Salisbury as the foot for my sewing machine which I ordered was ready for collection. I took my neighbour's daughter with me for some company, some education (hers) and to give her parents a bit of peace, as Auntie N was taking the middle one, leaving them with just the youngest. I was also meeting up with N to measure a little J for his sailor suit to wear at mummy and daddy's wedding in a couple of weeks...
Oh hell... I don't have much time to make it, but Easter weekend is coming up, so that's 4 days in which to slog my guts out making it... Unless I get my finger out today. It won't take long. Well, the top and trousers won't. The overcoat will be a bit more time with my...
Dun dun DUUUUHHHHH (dramatic music here)
... NEW Overlocker Sewing Machine!
Yup, I went to pick up an £8 foot for my sewing machine and spent another £10 puting a deposit on a new overlocker, which I will be picking up next Saturday and paying the remaining £289 for. One that was £100 less than it's supposed to be. Cool huh? (for real coolness, all you dollar-types out there multiply each of the numbers by two to get an idea of how much I just spent and how much I saved...) OK, not really interesting for all you non-sewing types out there, but the best thing since sliced bread as far as I'm concerned. It's going to save me ages of time and do really neat trimmed, overlocked and rolled hems, vital for those fiddly fabrics that have a habit of fraying as you cut them, never mind pinning and sewing them.
Anyway, Other than the headache, lack of sleep and procrastinating, I'm now waiting for himself to read the previous entry. I'm actually in two minds whether to delete it before he can catch sight of it or not, but if I remove it, he's never going to know how peeved I was right at that point. Or how depressed I am really.
I can be really calm, happy and jovial sometimes. I can be light and airy in my approach to life when I'm dealing with other people. When I'm stuck on my own, it's a different matter though. I'm OK when I'm doing stuff like my sewing. I have to concentrate on what I'm doing and forget all the other niggles. It's a good way to block out stuff, but I really need things to make in order to make it worth my while sitting at my machine when I need to get away from things for a while.
Other times, when I'm angry or upset, when something has happened to drop me into that pit of self-loathing and self-doubt, I withdraw from most things. I'll sit and watch shite on the telly, or I end up blogging, which probably worries people a bit, especially on my really black moments.
Yes, I do sometimes feel like a nothing, like there is nothing really there to validate my life. Sometimes I wish that I could just die, although I'd like not to be dead afterwards, thanks. It's a very odd situation. I'd like to be dead, to be lying in my coffin, to be gone, but to know what's going on because I'm not really dead-dead, just no longer alive in the life I am in. There's no serious thought of suicide, for the simple reason I'm scared of death. Petrified. Totally. I don't want to find out that perhaps there is nothing afterwards, although I do sometimes wonder if people who die really know there has been an ending somewhere or if it's just like going to sleep without waking up.
I have odd thoughts: I watch trains going past and wonder what it would be like to just jump in front of one, what it would feel like, how long it would take for consciousness to fade after life has technically left the building, so to speak. I'd never do it though for one simple reason: I know that brains survive for up to 4 minutes without oxygen (sometimes longer). Can you imagine lying there knowing you are dead and that nothing can be done to make you alive again? How long would those 4 minutes really take? Would they go past in the flash of your life, or would they be glacial in their slowness, accentuating every agony of the dying process? Not my idea of a laugh...
My mum says suicide is stupid, because you don't get to find out what happens next, and how the story ends. I think she's right and I think that's where I get my odd view of things from. If I did something really stupid, what would I be missing out on in the remaining years I should have been living? I've done a lot and been a few places, and there's more out there to be discovered. I'd like to be a someone in the world, with my little business being a name people would associate with beautiful christening gowns and delightful baby clothes. I'd like to travel and visit people. I'd like to carry on with my life, if it's all the same to my darkest thoughts, although it would be nice to have a little happiness and tranquility within myself.
I have to pull myself up by the boot straps every so often. I have to get over the little things and work out what happens next. I have to do so many things for myself. It would be nice to have a little support now and again, but patience is the virtue that I seem to be lacking in...
I wonder sometimes if any of this really makes a difference to me as a person, whether blogging really helps or whether it just ensures that some of my deepest recesses get picked over by others, dissected and examined. I know some worry with some of the things I write, and that's not the intention, so I apologise profusely to those people. I just write what I think. Actions are not necessarily going to follow, unless of course it's things like sewing and general stuff like that. Although procrastinating about those too means things get left...
Well, I think that's enough for today. Things at home are quiet. Texting between me and himself is occurring, although it's silly stuff and nothing serious that should be talked about, but at least it's communication. I even got cuddled in bed last night, although he was asleep. I don't mind. It was nice to be snuggled into for a change and has probably helped me inside somewhere.
I need to stop procrastinating and go make a sailor suit. I'll let you know how it goes...
posted by Me at 2:01 pm
2 Comments:
Mum you ought to make yourself a flight suit, and hop a non-stop to scenic Alberta.
Everyone says so.
I agree. You'd be that much closer for me not visit because I'm an anxiety riddle chicken shit.
Post a Comment
<< Home