What usually takes me 20 minutes to complete, takes the combined efforts of both my father and brother 45 minutes. This isn't even an exaggeration - you'd think they'd be more competent at washing a car than I would! I'm not sure whether to laugh at them, help them out or pat my self on the back. I'm more inclined towards the first and the latter. I deserve a break.
Last night was the first time in my life I actually snuck back into the house past curfew. Thank goodness the rents were knocked out too, because I'm not sure I would have been able to hold a coherent conversation without giggling every few minutes. I set the alarm (with help from the brothership), and slipped into my room and then just lay on my bed wondering if changing was worth the effort required to actually move. I did eventually and got into bed and then badgered Ordinary Guy - who was fast asleep and didn't hear his phone ringing, or did and ignored it (I don't blame him in any case - it was kind of super freaking late by his standards). And then, I sent him one of those texts I never would have in my right frame of mind. I called Dexter afterwards and apologised (I think) for sporadically disturbing his studying all evening - he's now moved up the ranks to "quite awesome friend" considering he was a fantastic sport about it and even shared my horror when halfway through the conversation, I went, "HOLY SHIT WHAT IS THAT ON MY ROOF!?" And there honestly was something, big and black and freaky looking slinking up there. I switched my bed side light on and nearly had a mini heart attack to see the Godzilla of all centipedes doing laps on my ceiling. Dexter's suggestions were none too helpful (sorry Dex), so instead I did the least helpful thing of all and just turned on my a/c to freezing temperature and hid myself under the blanket, hoping for morning to come soon enough. I briefly thought about rehydrating (the ringing in my ears and the wierd feeling in my chest sort of rang a few bells...but then I couldn't be bothered because every part of my body felt like led). I cut the call too before I said something infinitely stupid that I'd regret (forever) and after this post, neither of us will mention it again (ever). I woke up this morning, and thought that maybe I'd imagined the centipede in my wierd-mental-state because I couldn't find it anywhere (it had disappeared), and call me stereotypical, but I'm pretty sure that those things don't have super speed...
Also, I realised my phone had died. And I forgot my charger up the road. So I laced up for my morning jog (I had to make up for yesterday) and walked outside...and somehow got roped into mowing the lawn with my dad. When I finally hit the road, there was this mutt who followed me half way. After my encounter last week with the labs, I was sceptical about it, but the sweet creature just followed along behind me till he eventually got bored. By the time I got home, charger in hand and juiced up my cell, I also realised, with that shoot-me-now-please feeling, that I'd sent Ordinary Guy that regrettable text the night before. The reminder was right there in my sent-box, laughing in my face.
It's been a busy day, and it's still going to get busier - I have another braai to attend tonight - which will not involve me ending the evening trying and failing miserably to walk in a straight line. Oxygen deprivation does not agree with me - no matter how good it tastes.
So, after my major face-palm inflicted upon myself, by myself...I think I should get off of The Pinus and get to the zillion other things that need to be done. Peace out mother-cluckers.
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