...Think, Think, Think...

Low Brow?

This evening, after a lovely day spent picnicking in Richmond Park (where the deer are so used to people that you can walk right past them), a couple of friends and I went to a nearby pub to sit in the garden and have a drink.

A drink turned into dinner, and dinner suddenly became staying for the pub quiz.

We won one of the four rounds, which gained us a bottle of house wine.

The ultimate prize though, was that every time we had questions marked, the hostess had to read out our team name.

We're all professionals of a nature.  All office workers.  All intelligent, educated people.

There are lots of things we could have chosen.

Smart things.  Classy things.  Witty things.

Not today...we went right to the gutter.

Our team name, the triumph of the entire evening and the cherry on the whipped cream on the icing on the cake of the fabulous day I had, was:

"Quiz on my face"

I'm laughing even as I type it.

Mice and Men

Today, I was going to do lots of constructive things.  Tidying, organising, studying.

Instead, today I have:

• Made a new banner for the blog.  I love it, because it looks like a 5 year old with photoshop did it.  In fact, a 27 year old with photoshop did it.  Its a work in progress.

• Spent £60.68 on a new skincare regime and I feel prettier already.

• Eaten almost 1/4 of a key lime pie.

• Just sat down to watch TNA wresting.

And do you know something?  All of that is way better than constructive stuff.

At 27 years old, how did I get here?

Thats it.

Just a question.

How?  What steps did I take that put me where I am now?  Maybe, what steps didn't I take?

I figure, not going to university was one of them.  Not knowing what I wanted to do with my life didn't help.

This puts me, at 27, living a life that I'm not sure that I'm happy with*.  I'm also not sure how to fix it.

Stuck sucks.

*I do realise that happy isn't a permanent state, but it being an occasional state would be lovely at the moment.  When things that make you unhappy day to day either put you back in therapy or leave you so frustrated that you can't speak because you know if you do you'll either get extremely angry or cry its a pretty sorry state of affairs. 

Why yes, I am a smartass

Conversation re: ways to reduce my stress level.

...what about exercise then?

I hate exercise.  Hate it.

Beth, its really good for reducing stress.

Yes, I'm sure, but I hate it.

Okay, Well, name me one intelligent person who doesn't exercise.

Stephen Hawking.

#100 - Where Technology and Dolly Parton conspire against me

This, according to Typepad is my 100th post.

Thats not strictly true as i've had at least two total culls where I've been through and deleted some or all of my archives.

As I've (not so subtley) implied in recent posts, I'm not the happiest of bunnies at the moment.  At work, I got promoted, but there are elements of the job now that frustrate me more than I ever thought they would.  I won't go into detail here, I haven't even discussed them with my boss because at the moment I'm trying to ascertain whether its my expectations being too high or a real problem.  I will say that while I'm trying to sort my head out there has been a point in each week where I haven't exactly been ecstatic at the prospect of getting up and going to the office.

Most mornings, unless I go in very early, I walk to work.  Its 15-20 minutes from my house and provides me with the only exercise I get.  I can't walk in silence because I find the sound of my own neuroses to be totally mind numbing, so I always have an mp3 player with me (currently a red Sony NWZ-S638which I love!) and its mostly filled with rock.  Metallica, Queen, Nickelback, RHCP, Seether, Theory of a Deadman, Three Doors Down.  That sorta stuff.  There is the odd bit of cheesy pop, R&B, Rap, Jazz and even some country too.

Every morning in the last week, within the first 4 or 5 songs the "intelligent shuffle" has given me the same some.  I don't know how.  I don't know how it considers that shuffling, but every morning one of the first songs it picks to play for me is 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton.

Ironic, no?