Ironing and Other Failings
2009-07-10 - 2:54 p.m.
Several things today have made me feel like a complete failure in life. Firstly, I decided that instead of just sitting on my botty today (a botty which, I may add, I am getting increasingly paranoid about getting cellulite on) I would do something constructive. No, not tidy my bedroom, or sort out the bags full of my books which need to be separated into charity shop or keeping, or anything else that my mum really wants me to get on and do; but instead sorting out my wardrobe. This is not a meaningless task by any means, because I always fill large charity bags full of old clothes when I clear out my wardrobe, and today was no exception – even though this time around it was less actual clothing I threw out but more random belts and bizarre hats which flummox me when it comes to why on earth I bought them. I did get rid of some jeans though, which took some time. I’m usually good at my clothing culls, but for some reason getting rid of a pair of white skinny jeans that I bought two years ago and which never suited me (...or anyone, for that matter) was a challenge.
Anyway-anyway-anyway, so getting rid of stuff was a success but then I needed to give my wardrobe a general tidy up and just about everything needed ironing because of my ‘root through everything for one top and throw everything else to the back of the wardrobe in a scrumpled mess’ method of dressing. I spent a LONG time ironing – long enough for my dad, who’s round spending his spare time doing odd jobs around the house for my mum, to offer ME a cup of tea – only to find, upon returning them to the wardrobe, that half of them were even more creased than before! Add to this the unfortunate incidents of me trying and failing once again to conquer my infamous inability to use a tin-opener, even though I actually managed it last week, and my disastrous lunch attempt where the sauce of my MICROWAVABLE pasta wouldn’t thicken and yes, I am a failure in life. I evidently need a servant.
In other news, I’ve descended into a Pit of Ming once again. Skin’s a mess. I suspect my tea tree face wash, in all honesty; I’ve been a bit icky ever since I started using it. It’s also easier to blame a face wash than to blame my own shoddy diet and sleeping in my make-up a few nights too many. I fear that the absolute feast R and I gorged on last night (pizza, Haribo, flapjacks, Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, etc) will only aggravate the problem. We had to though – it was our year anniversary. I'll spare you the mush, but my feelings are mushy. We opted to stay in and watch Scarface and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre because we’re just so incredibly romantic like that.
I might take a trip up to the local supermarket in a bit to search for some cheap champagne stuff I can give the girl from work whose birthday I’m going out for on Sunday, but what with the ironing I think I’ve probably done enough for one day. I mean, it’s already ten to three. The day’s practically over.