So I've been a very slack blogger lately because I've been distracted by very dull, very unpleasant things, most of which centres around a bit of unwanted change that has been foistered upon me. Have I mentioned how much I hate change? I hate, hate, HATE it. I hate it like I hate.. well, let me see.... what DO I hate?
Not being able to sleep
The smell of seafood
Suped up ("souped up?") cars and the people who drive them
Gin
Tonic water
Laziness, especially my own
Unrequited love (well, come on)
Cockroaches
The Long Dark Tea Time of the Soul (otherwise known as Sunday evening, TM Douglas Adams)
Finishing a book you love
Calories
Needles
Pins and needles
February heat
Early nights
Not having a dishwasher
Peas
The novels of Dean Koontz
Summer TV
People who cut in line, particularly at bars
Mess
My hair
Coming home from an awful day to find no wine in the house
The dripping tap in my bathroom
People who walk across the road reaaaalllyy slowly
Drivers who don't indicate
Moths
Rudeness
The day after my birthday
Day-after drunken text remorse
And when you take all of that - the insomnia, the too-bitter drink, lying in bed trying not to hear the drip, the creepy, creepy, creepy crawling bugs and the loafing around listening to Elliot Smith and weeping in the bath - and it's still nothing compared to how much I hate change.
2 comments:
I must concur. In my case, it's as though what I once had is gone. Right as I get a hold of something or become comfortable, it's gone.
It's a GRIM feeling.
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