A Litte Night Schadefreude

I haven't blogged in a while.

As in three months. Three and a half months even. And I don't really know why I stopped, but suddenly I wasn't getting that weird bloggy feeling when I hovered my mouse over the 'Publish Post' button. It didn't feel the same, somehow.

Well, screw that.

I'm back.

I do sincerely apologise for:

(a) my absence (well, if anyone missed me. anyway..I think I'm being rather presumptuous here); and

(b) leaving you with the saccharine taste of a Twilight-related blog entry as my last post. Please be assured that I was mostly cured of this smouldering-intense-amber-eyes phase after watching the Twilight movie, which is enough to make put anyone off Stephenie Meyer. Or teenagers. Or mascara.

So anyway, I figured that since I've been so slack in updating, I owe you at least some kind of humiliating story, or a little piece of schadenfreude to brighten up your day (if you enjoy painful or embarrassing things happening to other people...but I'm sure we all do, since the trash that is Australia's Funniest Home Videos is the top-rating program in peak TV season.)


So.


I've had a bad week. A very bad week. In fact, make that TWO very bad weeks, which can all be traced back to when I started university- I'm doing STRAIGHT LAW for every. single. unit. It's like the Four Subjects of the Apocalypse. Pestilence and Famine, meet your brothers-in-arms, Equity and Constitutional Law.

The most depressing thing about starting university (aside from my Arts-less course) was the fact that I had to face it all after coming back from the most amazing five days in Tasmania...and the dull knowledge that instead of eating fresh fried prawns on the dock in Hobart with Kris, I was stuck in a Constitutional Law lecture with only a slightly warm muesli bar for company.

So yes. I've done some stupid things this week as a result of this lack of sleep. Like hit my head on the sink tap. Like stab myself in the hand trying to recap my pen. Like lather my face in shampoo because I thought for a moment that it was cleanser. (I figured this out when I noticed the total lack of exfoliating beads.) Plus, I think I get extra bonus points for pissing off a nightclub bouncer when I gestured a bit too energetically and my phone flew out of its sleeve and smacked him in the chest. (He looked at me like I was a moron. Or dirt under his shoe. Then he just yanked my hand and stamped me a pass-out, and I scampered outta there.)

And just to top things off...

...I went shopping the other day for a few 21st presents. I decided to stop in and visit my old boss at his new store, so off I went to say hello. Although he wasn't in, I did manage to find a copy of Supernatural Season 3 for $20 less than RRP. This roughly equates to 16 episodes of Jensen Ackles. Sort of relaxing viewing if you take away all the screaming and the stabbing and the blood and the killing.

So anyway, I found my little DVD precious and dug out my wallet. On that day, I was pretty damn tired. And really not with it. So when I got to the counter, I looked up and wilted.

You see, my old boss happens to have a mixed bag of staff. I can only equate it to getting one of those random cellophane-tied candy bags at Christmas- most of them are full of weirdly wrapped chocolate that you're not quite sure about, but sometimes you get something that's Cadbury and actually is pretty good.

And this boy is like the brand-name Cadbury chocolate you find in that little bundle of cellophane.

Please keep in mind that I have only ever spoken to this person thrice, and all three times were when I was purchasing something so the conversation wasn't exactly scintillating. I just like stalking him with my eyes whenever I get something from that store. Because he's cute. And seriously, our company is not really into hiring guys that cute. Last hot casual I worked with was in February 2008.

But tiredness does stupid things to you.

And that is the only explanation I can give for the fact that I momentarily seemed to have lost my power of speech and my right hand was fucking SHAKING.

In fact, the whole exchange was just downright painful, as not only did I gape at him for a full three seconds before he scanned the DVD (oh come on, as if you wouldn't) and he read me the completely wrong price, which forced me to use my vocal cords and ask him to repeat it, which caused him to apologise and shake his head at his mistake, and then it took half a minute to choke out that yes, I would indeed like a small bag, and after this excruciating exchange in which I was mentally shouting at my larynx to operate properly, I rushed out.


Then I went to stare at 21st cards, wishing that I could just bash my head against the lavender and pink Hallmark stand.


Subtle-Perving FAIL.

So there you have it. It is now 1:27 a.m on the 18th of March (Happy Birthday, Loui!) and I can look forward to another night of about four hours sleep. To make my week even better, one of my teeth is impacting on the gum, and the reason I had 4 hours sleep was because I woke up in tears in the early hours of the morning with the right side of my mouth feeling like bloody murder.

The earliest dentist appointment I could get is Monday next week, and I swear, this is possibly the only time I've ever looked forward to having something done to my teeth.

(And so The Exaltation of the Average comes back from a brief hiatus...I promise the next update will be a lot quicker...)