Yes, I know it’s past the middle of February already but I’ve been busy. Anyway, here’s a selection of my defining moments from January. As usual, there was a lot of refined sugar involved. Being the month of Australia Day there’s also a few Australian-isms and of course my general lack of coordination/social grace.
So when I try to hand wash clothes my weak wrists cannot twist-dry them enough. They are now soggily dripping onto a towel in my bedroom. This must be how T-Rex felt when he did laundry.
Weeping in bed watching Sherlock. Also totally normal.
Today I managed to be ejected sprawling into the street by my front door. I’d flung it open and as I bent down to collect my shopping it bounced back and whacked me in the ass.
Melted chocolate is really hard to get out of a white duvet cover.
All I really want to listen to right now is Benedict Cumberbatch reading aloud. So soothing.
I’ve decided to be reverse Mormon and have multiple husbands all for their accents. I’ll have a posh British one because it’s soothing, a Scottish one because it makes me smile, an Irish one because it’s very attractive and Ryan Gosling because hello this is my fantasy.
Brushing up on my slang for Straya Day. Aw mate that’s out the back of Bourke and not within cooee. Mate it’s as dry as a dead dingo’s donger. He’s got kangaroos loose in the top paddock.
Today I was involved in an incident with an almond croissant. The croissant won.
Reality dreams are a waste of good imagination. Like dreaming about going to Tesco. Even in dream I thought “I was just here yesterday”.
Evening plans have been rainchecked. Me: “Oh, but I shaved my legs.” *shrugs, gets back into pyjamas*
My bin’s contents consist of the wrappers of 1 Giant Toblerone, 2 packets Tim Tams, 1 Cadbury block, 1 Sainsbury’s Chocolate Block. Says it all, really.
I have been there and I am still amused at the name Cheddar Gorge. I think this comes from the Bega cheese ads. “Punchbowl isn’t famous for punchbowls”.
Accidentally spilled my chocolate balls and now keep finding them in my bed.
Basically I just should stop eating chocolate in bed
There is someone asleep in my living room/kitchen. I guess I’m having breakfast out this morning!
Dear guys, never start a conversation with “I’m not staring at your tits but…”
I just got an email from USyd congratulating me on my recent graduation. Erm. Did I miss something?
That embarrassing moment when you think someone is talking to you and they aren’t.
I burned my cheese and tomato toastie. Sad.
Me, shouting: “Where are all my bras?!!” Pauses, looks at floor. “Ah.”
Using a sock to blow my nose cos I’ve run out of tissues.
I just read “start talking” as “keep stalking”. There is clearly something wrong with me o.O
Actual thought I just had “what is Meg Ryan’s character’s name in When Harry Met Sally” *headdesk*
My hair is currently aspiring to match Doc’s in Back To The Future. I think a haircut is necessary.
Got home at reasonable hour only to be kept up by neighbours singing Meatloaf until past 3.30am
I’ve eaten almost a whole packet of marshmallows. My computer looks like it’s been dusted for prints
Current items on my bedside table: notebook, candle, cup of tea, bottle of wine, coffee beans, Harry Potter, a cat brooch and foundation. I think this sums me up pretty well.
My hair looks either really awesome or really weird.
