Black Mood Banishment

I woke up the other morning and the very first thing I did, before I’d even opened my eyes, was laugh at myself, signalling an end to the Blah & Meh’s. I was laying diagonally across the bed (I’m thinking that’s got to be the best way to utilise all that space), arms akimbo and head buried underneath my pillow. Without going into too much detail about my sleeping habits, I’m usually much more ladylike apart from dribbling onto my pillow and don't tend to sprawl. Still underneath the pillow and giggling, I imagined looking down on myself and seeing something like this:

It definitely beats the way I woke a few mornings ago – I opened my eyes to find myself nose to nose with Dopey. Aww, you might think, or eww, depending on your point of view. I was just laying there, slowly waking up, enjoying a little human/cat bonding, listening to her contented purring, when… she coughed.

Cat breath in my face first thing in the morning, or indeed any other time of the day, is categorically not on my Best Ways To Start The Day list.

Anyhow, imaginary chalk outlines and stinky cat breath aside, in my head once again the sky is blue, the sun is shining, the birds are a-singing and all is well again with my world. There were no pina colada’s involved, but a cheeky Chablis happened to cross my path. Regrettably it was only one glass though, because I spilt the rest all over myself, my sofa and my friend. Don’t ask. Very embarrassed. What a waste. Sigh.

Amongst other things, I decided I was suffering from blog fatigue – not only writing and reading (not a reflection on anyone’s writing I hasten to add), but also commenting – so I sent myself into a self-imposed blog exile. All very well and something I needed to do, but now I’ve got heaps to catch up on (ah well, that’s Sunday taken care of).

Last Tuesday was a cold, but glorious day, so after I finished work and had been to the supermarket (both b.o.r.i.n.g.), and in an effort to shake off the Blah & Meh’s, I decided to take myself off for a walk down by the river, which is a short distance from my house. Fortunately for me, and it was purely by accident rather than by design, the tide was in. Water is so much more pleasant to look at than mud, I find.

It totally had the desired effect and I could feel my frame of mind shifting from negative to positive. So much so, in the evening, while singing “You’re the firestarter, twisted firestarter” a la the Prodigy, I had the first of a few, much needed, long overdue, bonfires.

Like water has a soothing, get-things-straight-in-my-head effect on me, fire has a totally hypnotic effect, in an energizing ready-to-kick-ass way in this instance.

Unfortunately it’s been raining for the past couple of days, so my pyromaniacal (is that a word? The red squiggle underlining it suggests not, but Google says yes. I bow to your greater knowledge Google, O Wise One) tendencies will have to be put on hold for a little while. Also unfortunately, I went into the garden to put some rubbish out and slipped. When I looked to see what I’d slipped on, to my horror I saw it was a worm – gack! My worm radar had clearly suffered a malfunction (reminder to self: there is a reason you don’t venture into the garden after it’s been raining, numnuts).

Oh, while I was in the supermarket, I just happened to find myself in the wine section. It mystifies me how that always seems to occur - the supermarket trolleys must have some sort of wine seeking device built into them. *snort* Anyway, seeing as I was there, I thought it would be rude not to peruse the shelves. My eye was caught by a small, attractive looking bottle; my right hand, of its own volition, reached out, picked up the bottle and placed it in the trolley. Weird how that happens.

 
Let me assure you, the only place it eventually got spilt was down my throat.
 
Heh.