Skip to main content

this post will probably be a waste of your time

so this has been a real waste of a day. more or less. i actually woke up very early, but that's almost a guarantee that i'm going to waste the rest of the day, because i fall into the trap of thinking that i have lots of time to be productive, so that there's absolutely no problem with me procrastinating.

besides, i woke up early this morning because something had gone terribly wrong with my stomach, which is never conducive to productivity, unless you consider lying around and moaning a lot to be a noble pursuit.

what's worse is that it soon became obvious that something was wrong with all of our stomachs. i don't mean just me and dom, either, somehow, something managed to infect the cats as well. what's more fun when you have a touch of stomach flu than caring for cats with tummy issues? everything.

when you're a kid, being sick means that people are going to be checking on you, waiting on you, offering to get things that you want on a regular basis and just generally giving you a break. when you're an adult and you get sick, it means that the laundry and the dishes will be 24 hours more difficult to deal with. and i'd sort of isolated today to be the day that i did housework because i knew it was going to be the one spectacularly crappy day weather-wise this week.

of course, i had dom to make things better, which he did as follows:

dom :: you're going to have to take care of all of us today.

me :: what? why would i have to take care of everyone? i'm sick too. i'm the one who woke up sick at dawn.

dom :: but you're the oldest.

i think he mentioned at that point that i'd probably want him to sleep on the sofa tonight, which really just shows that he wasn't thinking clearly. i'm feeling unwell. why would i want to get up and go into the living room to stab him in his sleep when i can do it from the comfort of bed?

in the meantime, i'm trying to take a little pride in the few things that i got done today. for instance, i did remember to update "a definable moment in time". so go read that and forget what i said about stabbing someone in his sleep. or i'll have to find you and stab you. when i'm feeling better.

Comments

as long as you're here, why not read more?

jihadvertising?

i keep seeing this ad for tictac candies:



am i the only one who finds the suicide bomber clown at the end a little unnerving? all the nice natural things like the bunny and the [extinct] woolly mammoth and the fruit get devoured by a trying-to-appear-nonthreatening-but-obviously-psychotic clown who then blows himself up. congratulations, tictac, i think this ad has landed you on about a dozen watch lists.

oh and by the way, showing me that your product will somehow cause my stomach to explode in a rainbow of wtf makes me believe that doing consuming tictacs would be a worse dietary decision than the time i ate two raw eggs and a half a bottle of hot sauce on a dare.

mental health mondays :: the dangers of diagnosing

when you take a look at any reputable online source of information about mental health, it comes with a warning that anything you read on the site should not be considered a substitute for evaluation by a medical professional. so why are so many people jumping on the bandwagon to diagnose donald trump?

it's not uncommon for people to make glib judgments about the mental health of others, because we think that we understand what disorders entail. when i was working in offices, i noticed a lot of this: an immature and garrulous employee being labeled and partially excused because others were certain he had adhd, or a moody and indecisive boss dismissed as bipolar. [as you can imagine, that one struck me as particularly ignorant and, since i was the audience, ironic.] but in the case of trump, even professionals are weighing in on the subject. no fewer than twenty-seven psychiatrists have collaborated on a book called the dangerous case of donald trump. up to now, it's been unde…

making faces :: a winter tale

so this is it. we've reached the final season in our colour year. so far we've looked at spring, with its heart of citrus yellow, summer and its symphony of cool blues and autumn with its spicy bronzes and golds. and i'm still not sure i've found a good place to rest my face. i've chosen seasonal winners in each category, but are they really me?

it's a bit of a rhetorical question, of course, because i already had an inkling that my precocious childhood self might have been onto something when she declared herself a "winter". not that she knew what she was talking about, of course, but sometimes even fools say the right thing without meaning to. even a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day. [unless you're in europe and use a twenty-four hour clock, which actually makes a lot more sense.]

as with all the other seasons, winter is divided into three parts, the true winter at the centre, flanked by neighbours who carry a hint of the adjacent …