Sunday, November 30, 2008


I am a terrible decision-maker. I have spent most of the morning thinking stressfully about Moving to Christchurch (Is it a Bad Decision?) and am now grouchy at myself for doing so. It's only 'cause the weather's lovely and Sister Flatmate and I have planted a vege garden (we got really over-excited at the garden centre yesterday and bought far more plants than we have space for - we have tomatoes, and basil, and lettuce, and zucchini, and eggplant, and beetroot and a rose bush, and a miniature rose which I have planted in a pot so that I can take it back to Chch with me).
But yes. I am not very good at not second-guessing myself.

Or am I???

Garden is lovely, if a bit haphazard & ever so slightly amateur. Yesterday our landlord came round and cleared a long bit of, um, dirt (not sure why, but not complaining). This afternoon we planted everything (by which I mean I did the actual planting while Sister Flatmate, who is sick, sat on a beanbag in the sun and gave me directions) & now we're just waiting for it to grow. I am now feeling very nurturing and wholesome and earthy. My fingernails are disgusting. I hope not everything dies. I feel the rose bush may have been a little ambitious.

Work party was good fun - and I was well behaved! For me. My inner drunkard is sneering at me and saying, "What happened, man? You've changed. You used to be cool."

Oh man I have to stop going backwards and forwards about this whole moving thing. I'm behaving like one of those little desk toys with the silver balls on the strings - you know, the ones where you pick up the end one and let it go and it hits the other four - bonkbonkbonkbonk - and then the one on the opposite end flicks out, and it can go back and forth for hours? Yes. I am exactly like that. BonkbonkbonkbonkGAH! Bonkbonkbonkbonk. Sigh.

I have also been eating a lot recently. I suspect that since I quit band my subconscious has felt the need for a new hobby, and has lit upon constant eating. I am eating my bonus! I am going to become a chubster. Abject poverty much better for figure, she said as she tucked into her second pre-dinner tuna sandwich. Mmm delicious.

1 comment:

a cat of impossible colour said...

It is a good decision :)