This morning I woke up and felt tired. My Mum came in and asked if I was going to go on the dog walk and I said, no, I’m just going to set my alarm for an extra half hour and then I’ll work on clearing my room while she was out with the dog.
This set my Mum right off. I’m lazy, she says, and all I do is sit on my arse all day. Why can’t I be like my little brother who is in the rugby team and is always out doing things with his friends (yeeeees, he is. He is always out with his friends and usually sitting on his arse at other people’s houses, smoking dope. Great person to aspire to be).
She says “You say you’re going to be busy at uni but maybe you won’t be. Maybe you’ll just not go to your lectures and not get your degree”. Yep, I’ll just get into thousands of quids debt for nothing, that sounds like fun. Why didn’t I go to the gym during the holiday? Because I don’t want to buy a £240 3-month membership where I’ll be in the country for only two of those months.
Because, in order to save my parent’s hundreds of pounds I made myself take up running. Something that I used to literally have fear issues with. I made myself go run 4 times a week and I’d get up at 5:30am to do it before work experience. I went from being able to run no more than 10 minutes at the start of the summer to being able to easily run for 30.
And she shot that down. She said how I should be better at things than her. She said that if she can do a Body Pump class better than me now, then by the time I’m 50 I’ll probably be in a wheelchair because I’ll be too weak to walk. And all the years of Tang Soo Do classes were probably a waste if it hasn’t made me strong enough.
I don’t know if she knows how much the things she says are hurting me but they are tearing me up. I can’t wait to get away from this. At least I only have 3 more days.
I’ll take this anger I can’t help but feel right now and turn it into motivation. I’ll work the hardest I’ve ever worked in my life, no more excuses.
She drove her police car through Soho right in the middle of it. The predictable consequence of driving your police car through Soho during Pride is that several of London’s finest and most fabulous drag queens will climb on top of the car for the general amusement of the crowd.
Later she went to the pub with my dad to talk about Important Parent Stuff or something. She then bumped into her friend who regaled them both with her sorrows for two hours, and then they saw our tenants across the bar and joined in with them. It was at this point that she started on the sambuca shots. It would be a close call between the two of us this morning as to who is the most hungover…
If I can’t walk it myself, I really hope I won’t be in hospital so I can be there to support my Mum and her CSI colleagues, who are going to be racing for me :)
Thankfully my mum is totally a feminist and this kinda stuff isn’t new to her, but still. It was kinda weird.
- take the time to check out your iTunes library.
- Time to refresh facebook like an idiot…
- Time to open paint and draw butterflies and unicorns.
- Time to stare at apple home page like a boss.
- Time to look at clothes on clothing websites.
Time to check your e-mail.
- Time to stare at Google for about 10 minutes.
ITUNES ITUNES. ALWAYS ITUNES.
OH MAN ISN’T THIS SCREENSAVER AWESOME?