Don't you forget about me
I'm so tired lately it's quite awful and I don't know why. Not like I have anything to do I suppose, so it's no big problem. It's no big problem anyway really, wake up about eight, get up around nine, walk the dogs, do washing up, paint a bit, lunch, walk the dogs, scan the markets, get something for dinner, cook, eat, walk the dogs, tv for a bit, try to write, fail, let the dogs out for 15 then tuck them up, bed about 11... I just feel a bit middle aged with a routine I guess. I mean obviously there's different things that happen like meeting up with people and therapy and job center and Stitch's mum and bla bla bla but that's the template. I'm just really tired I couldn't do more if I tried.
Therapy this week was as brutal as ever. We were looking at what I perceive a man to be. Apparently it's anything but me. That's why I'm such a little scrapper (tell us something we don't know) and also where the issues of bla stem from and why I'm not comfortable with saying I'm bla and how my Dad would be proud because apparently I really am his son, cause a lot of my perceptions of What Makes A Man A Man are the same as his, you know, earning an income, supporting your spouse, having strapping lads to carry on the family name yadda yadda... stupid questions Therapists ask though hey? Like how comfortable I was in the clothes my parents would dress me in and if I've changed dress (yes) why (because Im not a prince) etc and how much bravado I put on (a lot, apparently) and my homework is to speak in my 'natural' voice for a week and THAT'S why I'm not typing in my accent, which actually is something I've not really noticed I was doing until I had it pointed out and there's certain posts where I do it and some that I don't and it's all a bit strange.
Stitch is watching a program called guitar heros and resting his feet on my arse (I'm lying on the floor), he's dead lucky he's got me, part boy part pouffe (foot rest- easy!), anyway, those rifts in voodoo child fair makes you shiver hey? Wicked. Wish I could do guitar properly, I can only do that little bit that Stitch has taught me. He's got his slung across him, playing with ease. It's pretty sexy, just how unbothered he looks playing along, like it's nothing to him... Oh my. You can't really look that uninvolved on the flute (could you imagine though, haha) I'm doomed, and Piano even if you start of relatively small, once you're in the middle of Prokofiev's Eighth Sonata you can't help but switch to top hat and tails mode and really go for it. Speaking of, ha, I got some brogues today, proper ones, white and black, cause no kidding I can never find smart shoes that are also a bit, y'know, Petey so I had ta get them cause if I ever have to dress smart for something it's boring with black so I thought I better.
NO WAY the Breakfast Club just came onnnn I wonder if he'll let me watch it (can't stand the cliché's apparently haha) if I ask reaaaaally nicely?
Even if he does bet I'm asleep in the first half hour haha
Hope everyone is alright, I'll catch up with you when I have time to sit and read everything properly
PG x
Therapy this week was as brutal as ever. We were looking at what I perceive a man to be. Apparently it's anything but me. That's why I'm such a little scrapper (tell us something we don't know) and also where the issues of bla stem from and why I'm not comfortable with saying I'm bla and how my Dad would be proud because apparently I really am his son, cause a lot of my perceptions of What Makes A Man A Man are the same as his, you know, earning an income, supporting your spouse, having strapping lads to carry on the family name yadda yadda... stupid questions Therapists ask though hey? Like how comfortable I was in the clothes my parents would dress me in and if I've changed dress (yes) why (because Im not a prince) etc and how much bravado I put on (a lot, apparently) and my homework is to speak in my 'natural' voice for a week and THAT'S why I'm not typing in my accent, which actually is something I've not really noticed I was doing until I had it pointed out and there's certain posts where I do it and some that I don't and it's all a bit strange.
Stitch is watching a program called guitar heros and resting his feet on my arse (I'm lying on the floor), he's dead lucky he's got me, part boy part pouffe (foot rest- easy!), anyway, those rifts in voodoo child fair makes you shiver hey? Wicked. Wish I could do guitar properly, I can only do that little bit that Stitch has taught me. He's got his slung across him, playing with ease. It's pretty sexy, just how unbothered he looks playing along, like it's nothing to him... Oh my. You can't really look that uninvolved on the flute (could you imagine though, haha) I'm doomed, and Piano even if you start of relatively small, once you're in the middle of Prokofiev's Eighth Sonata you can't help but switch to top hat and tails mode and really go for it. Speaking of, ha, I got some brogues today, proper ones, white and black, cause no kidding I can never find smart shoes that are also a bit, y'know, Petey so I had ta get them cause if I ever have to dress smart for something it's boring with black so I thought I better.
NO WAY the Breakfast Club just came onnnn I wonder if he'll let me watch it (can't stand the cliché's apparently haha) if I ask reaaaaally nicely?
Even if he does bet I'm asleep in the first half hour haha
Hope everyone is alright, I'll catch up with you when I have time to sit and read everything properly
PG x