Sleepless Mindfield

Now, I am meant to be sleeping, but despite taking a full sleeping tablet (I usually only do half during the week) and my other medication, I’m still awake. Charming!

My legs feel like lead. Steve pushed me to leg press another 10 Kg more than last week. That I could still handle, but hip lifts… Good Lawdy, them things are in a league of their own! My thighs are going to probably be stiffer than a corpse tomorrow.

Tarryn, my hairdresser (aka The Fairy because she was the most beautiful pregnant fairy ever) was at the salon on Tuesday when I went to Elena for my nails. She asked me quite bluntly, Where’s your ass. I told her it’s there, but because all my clothes are getting a little baggy, it doesn’t look like it. Truth be told, I don’t really have a well-rounded derriere, because my butt cheeks are on my chest. I’m very aware of (as Charlie put it) my great rack or as my Capetonian friend, Allan refers to them, The Girls.

Anyway, my bustline wasn’t originally what I planned on writing about when I started this post. Love was. Or rather the sacrifices one makes for those we love. When faced with a situation where you would have to either cause- or suffer heartbreak to save the one you love, would you really do it? And I’m talking about relationships between two adults here, not a parent for their child because that’s on an entirely different plain.

On the subject of plain, why is plain yoghurt apparently healthier than its flavoured counterparts? Is it because it’s free of colourants? Or is it just because it doesn’t taste pleasant? Like Chaimberlain’s cough medicine – tastes like battery acid, but my Grandmother swore by it. That, and cod liver oil. Blegh!

Personally, I believe almost any ailment can be fixed with warm salt water. Sore throat? Gargle. Sinus? Inhale. Constipated? Drink a glass of warm salt water and you’ll be shitting through the eye of a needle in no time. Guaranteed!

Okay, so this post went from tits to shit in just a few paragraphs, but at least my eyes are starting to feel heavy. Here’s hoping for some REM because if I don’t get any soon, I will not only have lost my mind, I may very well be Losing my Religion too.

Zzzzzzzzzz

Hmph!

Warning:  I am in an extremely foul mood.  Use of expletives to vent my frustration is required.

Fuck, fuck FUCK!!!  It might as well have been Friday, the thirteenth today. 

The girls from work and Sandra’s friend, Kerry and I all went out for dinner to Panarotti’s last night – eat all the pizza you can for R49-95.  The hangover is the result of two glasses of free red wine because we had to wait an age for a table, and then a half a litre of Sangria with dinner.  My poor aching head.

To add insult to injury – Mom, in her infinite fucking wisdom, decided to have new remote controls activated for the garage doors, house alarm and new safety gate.  Why she insists on fixing something that isn’t broken, only she will know.  This morning I couldn’t get into my garage at all – not with the new remote, nor the old one!  And I was already late for work.  Fuck!  So, when I went upstairs telling her I would have to use Dad’s car to get to work, she almost had a hissy fit.  As if it is MY fault that the stupid fucking remotes aren’t working.

On my way to work (now even later than I was before!), I got pulled over by the traffic cops for a routine check.  THAT at least went off without a hitch, because quite honestly, if the traffic cop had fined me, I would probably have ended up in the chookie for crimen injuria.

Right, at work, things just seem to get worse…arriving late (obviously!) and then walking straight into the proverbial shitstorm.  Fridays are generally not good days at the farm because of millions of meetings and reports that have to be completed before lunch.  Imagine now how one is supposed to do the million reports when there is no electricity, until just after nine, and no coffee until then either!

Finally online, the reports begin…I pop off to the loo only to discover no water – the unexpected, excessive rain has resulted in a burst pipe 😦 

It is not a good day…on the flip-side, it can only get better (I hope!)