I'm a Deadbeat With Style

Well, the last post is now semi-redundant, but let's not dwell on that.

This week is just so not my friend at all! I feel like I have been pretty distant with the little handful of friends I have here, because I am unhappy that I failed in my own little quest, but I am working my way back to me, I guess.
I had a pretty huge anxiety/stress/emotional crash last week and this week is not faring much better. Not that hugely bad things are happening this week, just really random little things to trip me up when I am not at my best.

• Yesterday I ran into a door (yes - I legitimately got hit in the face with a door, it is not a bad excuse. I slapstick-comedy-ed myself - I pulled the lounge door open and hit myself in the head with it). I still don't know exactly how I did it, but I saw stars and cried and giggled at the ridiculousness of me-running-into-a-door. 

Brendan thought maybe I was trying to give myself a Harry Potter scar, as it hit right on my temple leaving a big red mark crossing the scar I already have on my forehead - but now there is not even a little bruise - it just hurts when I touch it.

• Last week I banged my elbow on the corner of the mantle piece and I think I bruised the bone or something because that still really hurts too. 

• Our front door has decided that it doesn't want to lock or close (unless you slam it a lot of times and sort of jam it shut which means that we have to leave the house via the back door, until we can get the front door fixed.

 Lainey (who is very much an inside cat) is the one that first discovered that the front door wouldn't shut late last night and gleefully ran through the yard, jingling her little bell and calling for Brendan - we eventually got her back inside but it seemed to take forever and I was freaking out at losing the cat.

• The space between the door frame and the actual door of the back door (remember - the door that we now have to use) has apparently become the cubby house/secret lair/headquarters to about a gazillion earwigs. Whenever I open the door, earwigs seemingly fall from the sky - which, I have to say, terrifies me to my core. 

  Quick note about me and bugs/creepy things that creepeth (more specifically, earwigs, but more on that anon): 

I don’t like spiders a great deal, but they don’t disturb me too badly. The ones that look nasty or are great big are allowed to lurk in corners, but if they hit the bedroom, ceiling over my head or walls at face height or below, then they are out. Daddy long legs spiders are allowed to stay. Cochroaches make me feel slightly ill and must be destroyed instantly.But on the whole, I can deal with them, generally well.


Now, back to earwigs.


 Earwigs: - Earwigs make my heart race and I freeze up. They scare the bejesus outta me (wherever one keeps their bejesus...) 
If they are on the floor of the toilet, no matter how bad I need to go, I can’t go in there until Brendan gets rid of them. The other night there were some in the doorway of the lounge and on the kitchen floor - which cut off both my avenues to get to the bedroom - I sat up until about 4am because the earwigs were holding me captive.
In our old house I was sweeping up damp leaves in the little outdoor area, and when I looked down, there was a swarm of earwigs, writhing and creeping out of the pile of leaves. I screamed, literally screamed, dropped the broom and ran inside and locked the door until Brendan came home. My heart was thumping and I was terrified. Apparently it was very funny to anyone who was not me, however.



So, back to the point, what was that again? Oh yeh, EARWIGS FALLING FROM THE GODDAM SKY?!?! Forgot about the millions of locusts that are creepily all over the placeat the moment, earwigs are the sign of my apocalypse and they are EVERYWHERE!

In very random summary: My house is falling apart and trying to kill me; earwigs have been sent to terrify and kill me; my hair is long and thick and when it is hot and summery, becomes quite a nuisance; I am being eaten up by mosquitoes, who are clearly trying to suck all my blood out...to kill me; the internet keeps dropping out; my laptop keeps turning itself off; the tap in our kitchen keeps coming away from the wall whenever I try and do the dishes in scalding hot water - trying to burn and kill me?; my bathroom has no power points (which, of course, has not only occurred in the last week - no one came in and removed power points or anything, but it's still pissing me off) ;I am twenty six and should know better than I do and I feel very much like I am failing in every aspect of my life but I need to...empty the buckets? Internalise the triangles?


On the day last week that was pretty bad - I channeled my energy into the house. I cleaned everything.
I cleaned so much, I changed things around, put up pictures and the Christmas Treesel (thats a Christmas tree on an easel, by the way). The day after that, I braved the slow cooker I got for my birthday and made, what is apparently a very excellent meaty stew.

Let's play a bastardised version of Five Things real quick:


1. I have new shampoo that smells like raspberries and I like it.


2. I am happy with the newest collage I am making  -  it's almost done, it just needs...something extra.


3. Last time I was in my hometown, people I haven't seen for quite a while told me I was very pretty/cute/gorgeous/hot. My ego was giant that day.


4. Cousous. I don't know how healthy it is or anything but rediscovered that I really like it.


5. Brendan. He is just... well, words in a lousy, poorly written blog can't do him justice. I am very obviously married to the best guy on the planet. He is phenomenal. He is wonderful and and just so supportive - he believes in me so much more than I do. He has been a godsend this week   - well, not just this week - since I first met him and he surprised me with Les Mis and Pirates references. I couldn't be, without him. 

On re-reading - there's no point here, just word vomit. But maybe that's what I need. Again, emptying the buckets, 'coz they are clearly overflowing with muck.