(no subject)
Things I should be doing instead of playing "The Sims"
1) Downloading my photos from Scotland, London and Hong Kong onto my computer. For some reason there's a really big hole where my motivation for this task should be.
2) Finding, editing and choosing some photos to print. I have big white walls, and, failing that, lots of space in my photos box.
3) Creating a new ridiculous lounge portrait to go on the wall of our lounge. We have one, painted by The Belgian, hanging above the green sofa and orange lamp. The subject of the painting is the green sofa and orange lamp. I intend to hang a painting of the table over the table. I enjoy the double-take it garners from visitors.
4) Cooking, baking or otherwise creating something that isn't pasta.
5) Writing another extremely long journal entry to cover everything from Spain back through Belgium then up to Amsterdam (which I still just can't can't can't write without an "n" on the end. There's a big hole in my brain where my ability to type "dam" should be. I just did it again. Damn damn damn damn.) and then down to France, back to Brussels, up to Edinburgh, over to Skye, Glasgow, Oban, Glasgow, London, Hong Kong, Auckland, home. There's a whole lotta writing to be done there, and the longer I wait the fuzzier the edges will be.
6) I could go to the gym. Hey, why not?
7) I could sleep. Sleep in silence, until Doig gets up in the morning and coughs a whole lot. No snores or other random sleeping noises shall disturb me. I may toss and turn and fear not for the abrupt awakening of a top-bunk fall onto a tiled floor. I don't have the angst of feeling like I need to squeeze as much sleep as possible out of my night, since I'm paying so fricking much for it. And in the morning I don't need to strip the sheets of my bed and dump them in a basket at reception.
8) I could also live my own life under the assumption that it is much cooler than anything Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt, Captain Jean-Luc Picard and his crew and the guys from Flight of the Conchords could ever get up to in their little world where it never rains (unless you have the expansion pack). Yes that's right. My real life is cooler than my fake life. Even if Angelina is a one-woman baby farm. Even if all her children are being sent off to Brett and Germain's School for Too Many Children. Even if Jean-Luc Picard and Jennifer Aniston are getting it on. Oh god, oh god. This is going down in history as the saddest paragraph I have ever written.
I think we'll go number 7.
1) Downloading my photos from Scotland, London and Hong Kong onto my computer. For some reason there's a really big hole where my motivation for this task should be.
2) Finding, editing and choosing some photos to print. I have big white walls, and, failing that, lots of space in my photos box.
3) Creating a new ridiculous lounge portrait to go on the wall of our lounge. We have one, painted by The Belgian, hanging above the green sofa and orange lamp. The subject of the painting is the green sofa and orange lamp. I intend to hang a painting of the table over the table. I enjoy the double-take it garners from visitors.
4) Cooking, baking or otherwise creating something that isn't pasta.
5) Writing another extremely long journal entry to cover everything from Spain back through Belgium then up to Amsterdam (which I still just can't can't can't write without an "n" on the end. There's a big hole in my brain where my ability to type "dam" should be. I just did it again. Damn damn damn damn.) and then down to France, back to Brussels, up to Edinburgh, over to Skye, Glasgow, Oban, Glasgow, London, Hong Kong, Auckland, home. There's a whole lotta writing to be done there, and the longer I wait the fuzzier the edges will be.
6) I could go to the gym. Hey, why not?
7) I could sleep. Sleep in silence, until Doig gets up in the morning and coughs a whole lot. No snores or other random sleeping noises shall disturb me. I may toss and turn and fear not for the abrupt awakening of a top-bunk fall onto a tiled floor. I don't have the angst of feeling like I need to squeeze as much sleep as possible out of my night, since I'm paying so fricking much for it. And in the morning I don't need to strip the sheets of my bed and dump them in a basket at reception.
8) I could also live my own life under the assumption that it is much cooler than anything Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt, Captain Jean-Luc Picard and his crew and the guys from Flight of the Conchords could ever get up to in their little world where it never rains (unless you have the expansion pack). Yes that's right. My real life is cooler than my fake life. Even if Angelina is a one-woman baby farm. Even if all her children are being sent off to Brett and Germain's School for Too Many Children. Even if Jean-Luc Picard and Jennifer Aniston are getting it on. Oh god, oh god. This is going down in history as the saddest paragraph I have ever written.
I think we'll go number 7.