This was actually going to be a post about something else completely, but now it is not. It is going to be an excerpt from an (online) conversation about a friend's recent breakup, and it goes a little something like this... (blogroll, please.)
Me: "Sorry to hear about your breakup blah blah sympathy nice supportive things."
Him: "funny thing is, after the natural sting, which dissapated very quickly, i realsied i just dont care - i just want her to be happy" (all spelling mistakes his)
Me: "fair enough! obviously good time to end it then."
Him (and this is my favourite part): "funny...it reminded me of soemthing I worte on a scarp of paper after my first breakup..."At first I thought you had abandoned me, now I know you set me free""
Me: "OH GOD YOU'RE SO DEEP LET'S MAKE OUT." (No, not really. I didn't really say that.)
Bleh, pretentious. Is it meant to scan, do you think?
I am going to write "At first I thought you had abandoned me, and you had, because I was a twat" on a piece of paper and put it in his letterbox.
ANYWAY. What was I actually going to talk about? Oh, ASB are giving little elephant-shaped money boxes away to their younger customers. I wonder why they don't give them to adults as well? It seems like reverse discrimination. Maybe they would if you asked for one. I don't even bank with ASB.
That was not what I was going to talk about. It turns out that I've forgotten what I was going to talk about, what with the pretentious wankery and the elephant-shaped money boxes. I am hopeless sometimes!
Am still sick, but less so. They keep changing my medication (by 'they' I mean the doctors - I realise that sounded a bit paranoid) & the side effects keep differing. Whee. Is quite fun in some ways, though - took meds this morning whilst doing makeup and, about five minutes later, was putting on mascara when I thought "Ooh I feel a bit weird" and as I watched, my pupils went WHOOMPH and became enormous.
Bleh, I have to do the dishes. More on this later. Bleh bleh bleh dishes bleh bleh ooh I feel ill.
Have done dishes. It is now later. Have scrubbed two casserole pots free of burnt on casserole that flatmate made last night. Would be feeling a lot less resentful about this if casserole had not given me gas.
Cleaning pots has made me a) feel cranky and b) feel better. At the moment the two are warring within me. Cranky is just edging out better. It's like a drag race between good and evil, except not really.
In other news, I may have to pull out of the show. This is indescribably sucky, but I keep being sick and missing rehearsals. Gah. Am going to talk to the director tomorrow. Gah! Sorry to end on a low note (makes low note noise...booooooop) but feel like I should put some Actual Information in this post, not just, well, crap.