i want to be a couch potato
After professing my love for this city in my previous blog, I started to wonder whether the very things that keep me here are the same things that will ultimately cause me to pack my bags and head for a quieter existence.
Last night was my ‘night off’ this week. However, this night inevitably gets filled with household chores as anxiousness drives me to consider the growing pile of washing in the corner of my bedroom and the layer of hair on my carpet. The result is that my evening is no longer time off at all. It’s an odd realisation when you begin to see that all the activities, with which you fill your schedule, as much as you enjoy them, start to tire you beyond explanation.
Baring defiance towards all things domestic, last night I decided to watch a DVD rather than undertake anything else that I ‘should’ have been doing (I did them afterwards).
Bad move.
Dreamer, based on a true story about a family that nurse a race-horse that breaks its leg in a race, had me sobbing my heart out on the couch for one and a half hours, solid. After a while I wasn’t even sure why I was crying; I missed my family, I was sitting alone on my couch, the music was sad, I was tired, I’d gone shopping earlier and spent money that I really didn’t want to spend and as I looked out into the dark night, where sunlight should have been, I realised that winter is fast approaching. I used half a box of tissues and then called my step-mom and spoke to my little sister who, momentarily, put a smile back onto my face. I’m so tired and while I want to blame London, I can only blame myself. This mentality that a night at home makes me boring has got to go. Bring on Ben & Jerry and couch-potato-ness.
Last night was my ‘night off’ this week. However, this night inevitably gets filled with household chores as anxiousness drives me to consider the growing pile of washing in the corner of my bedroom and the layer of hair on my carpet. The result is that my evening is no longer time off at all. It’s an odd realisation when you begin to see that all the activities, with which you fill your schedule, as much as you enjoy them, start to tire you beyond explanation.
Baring defiance towards all things domestic, last night I decided to watch a DVD rather than undertake anything else that I ‘should’ have been doing (I did them afterwards).
Bad move.
Dreamer, based on a true story about a family that nurse a race-horse that breaks its leg in a race, had me sobbing my heart out on the couch for one and a half hours, solid. After a while I wasn’t even sure why I was crying; I missed my family, I was sitting alone on my couch, the music was sad, I was tired, I’d gone shopping earlier and spent money that I really didn’t want to spend and as I looked out into the dark night, where sunlight should have been, I realised that winter is fast approaching. I used half a box of tissues and then called my step-mom and spoke to my little sister who, momentarily, put a smile back onto my face. I’m so tired and while I want to blame London, I can only blame myself. This mentality that a night at home makes me boring has got to go. Bring on Ben & Jerry and couch-potato-ness.
posted by foxy_roxtar at 1:37 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home