My eyes hurt enough that I am scared that I may finally have ruined my eyesight.
Yesterday my laptop cord caught on fire. Literally within hours of me lecturing ma about being paranoid about imagined Horrid Things that could happen to me while I was alone at home for the weekend. Hah.
Much as I was yearning for some Alone Time, once I finally got it all I did was sleep and watch youtube videos. Which is pretty much what I would do earlier when I lived alone. I don't know why I begin to imagine this extremely glamorous or uber cool girl on her own types scenario the moment I am no longer living alone. I only remember this almost fictitious past life where I am all happy in a chic apartment lit with fairy lights, working on this splendid painting, and eating exclusively pasta or grilled salmon for dinner. I entirely fail to remember the me that is letting her laundry pile up till all her clothes stink, sleeping in till noon, deciding to start exercising tomorrow, and just eating eggs all day because like hello why bother cooking when you can just make some eggs. And then moping about another wasted day once its inexplicably already evening. Frankly, barring all the Family Drama, the Real Living Alone Me is not THAT different from the me that is living with parents. Except I have clean clothes because mummy does my laundry (you know, cause I am only in my thirties), I eat better cause mummy does my cooking, except on SOME weekends (again, because I am only thirty three--also because my parents really wouldn't eat most of what I would cook) and I sulk about all the exercise and painting I would get done if only I was living alone and had more time and Space to Myself.
I shall now go maybe work on a sketch. Haha, just kidding. My eyes hurt. Sketching would ruin them. I shall just watch Youtube instead.
Weird EDIT: I was actually NOT 33 when I wrote this... I was like 30 or 31, but I spent the entire year thinking I was 33 an even telling people I was 33 until K pointed out like hullo you are not 33. So. Yeah, I should prolly get my brain checked.
Yesterday my laptop cord caught on fire. Literally within hours of me lecturing ma about being paranoid about imagined Horrid Things that could happen to me while I was alone at home for the weekend. Hah.
Much as I was yearning for some Alone Time, once I finally got it all I did was sleep and watch youtube videos. Which is pretty much what I would do earlier when I lived alone. I don't know why I begin to imagine this extremely glamorous or uber cool girl on her own types scenario the moment I am no longer living alone. I only remember this almost fictitious past life where I am all happy in a chic apartment lit with fairy lights, working on this splendid painting, and eating exclusively pasta or grilled salmon for dinner. I entirely fail to remember the me that is letting her laundry pile up till all her clothes stink, sleeping in till noon, deciding to start exercising tomorrow, and just eating eggs all day because like hello why bother cooking when you can just make some eggs. And then moping about another wasted day once its inexplicably already evening. Frankly, barring all the Family Drama, the Real Living Alone Me is not THAT different from the me that is living with parents. Except I have clean clothes because mummy does my laundry (you know, cause I am only in my thirties), I eat better cause mummy does my cooking, except on SOME weekends (again, because I am only thirty three--also because my parents really wouldn't eat most of what I would cook) and I sulk about all the exercise and painting I would get done if only I was living alone and had more time and Space to Myself.
I shall now go maybe work on a sketch. Haha, just kidding. My eyes hurt. Sketching would ruin them. I shall just watch Youtube instead.
Weird EDIT: I was actually NOT 33 when I wrote this... I was like 30 or 31, but I spent the entire year thinking I was 33 an even telling people I was 33 until K pointed out like hullo you are not 33. So. Yeah, I should prolly get my brain checked.
I love living alone. Yesterday I had a rare moment when I realised how, despite all the work anxiety and time anxiety that constantly envelopes me, just how blissful I have it right at this very moment. The trick is to hold on to that realisation, I guess.
ReplyDeleteAlso, lies. You are gonna turn 32 this November. How are you thirty-three?!! Bollei holo.
I LOVE living alone too. Even if it is to just sleep all day and eat a mind boggling number of eggs and never do laundry unless absolutely necessary. This post is just me shaking my head at how different what I ACTUALLY do when I live alone is from what I IMAGINE I would have done when I am not living alone. :P
ReplyDeleteAlso, I keep forgetting how old I am. I was convinced I was already 32. Am I just going to turn 32? Phew! That's a relief.
ReplyDeleteEi, write more no? I miss ew.
ReplyDelete