Champagne and Socks

1. The consensus seems to be that I should sell the damn washing machine already. Feedback has been received in multiple formats, including in real life and also my mother, and uh, yeah, everyone thinks I should get the hell over it already. Though I love that the TV is apparently a different story. Noone has voted for me to get rid of the TV.

You know what it is, and this is horrible to admit but, I don’t believe that I get to be happy. I think that’s why I’ve stayed in bad relationships and let people treat me badly, in the past. So I’m having trouble giving in and actually allowing myself to be happy. I feel like I should question it – not C, never C – but the bit where I get to have what I really want. Or that I would be tempting fate or my luck. But it’s just a freaking washing machine. And two rice cookers. And maybe a slow cooker. And … whatever. But as Kathryn said to me today, it’s not just that C is different (and not my ex) but I’m different too. And that’s important.

2. I read a book yesterday. A whole book. I stayed up to finish it. I haven’t done that in a very very long time.

3. The book was The Hunger Games. I rushed out and bought books 2 and 3 today even though Tansy said I shouldn’t read Mockingjay. It took me ages to get to sleep last night and then I dreamed I was in the Hunger Games. I didn’t like that so much.

4. I came home tonight after running around all day and C had soup on the stove. My favourite soup – he’d made it since I can’t seem to find cans of it in the shops anymore (why do Coles and Woolworths keep reducing the choice in their lines?). He made me sweetcorn soup. It’s my favourite. And it was delicious. Afterwards we went on a junk food run for Saturday night TV and he said to me, “You love me more now, cause of the soup.” And I said, “Yeah, just a little bit.” Cause like … he made me my favourite soup!

5. It blows me away that someone can really see me. Like, *really see me*. And not only love me but want me to be happy. See point number 1 and then point number 4. I think that’s mostly because people don’t ever really look that hard normally and also think you will be more happy if you were the person they think they see, with all that not looking really carefully.  So it’s weird to find someone who gets all my random references – like for odd songs, weird old musicals, random books, Shakespeare, stuff. Not only that but gets my jokes. And makes jokes that *I* think are funny. Like clicking a lock, just so, every other key *almost* a fit but slightly off. We just fit. He likes all the random food I like that noone ever usually likes – like licorice, olives, stuff. And normally I don’t have to share that stuff. But I *like* sharing it with him. Weird.

And the big one. Here I am on a Saturday night doing something I actually really love to do on a Saturday night in winter – curl up on my comfy couch and watch romcom TV shows or whatever, slouch about and potter around. I kinda like the quiet time to myself. Tonight, C is tired and sleepy and went to bed at 7.30. (OMG I am such a night owl and he is so not one. At all. Who goes to bed at 7.30?) So. Here I am with the best of both worlds – I’m having a girl’s night in by myself (the puppy has finally stopped being a pain), watching girlie TV and eating bad food and slouching. And then I get to hop into bed with my perfect guy. It’s, dare I say it, perfect?

6. You can order hot chocolate online – like real chocolate powder. It arrived in the mail today – hot chocolate and chilli. Yum. I love the future.

7. This year has really been about home truths. And no matter how horrible they are to realise, the result still ends up being liberating. Which is weird.

8. I’m gonna watch New Who.

9. Well, it’s on a list of TV shows I have that I think I should work through. That I have a list, and feel I need to work through them, and haven’t watched them yet, stresses me out. Also, that TV shows are addictive, you get immersed in them and when you’re on a bender, there’s no time for reading.

10. I’m currently on a reading bender. After not reading 5 books a year for a good 5 years or more, I’m reading 5 books a week. and it’s AWESOME. I love it. It feels like I was rusty on this and now after a few warm ups, I’m getting back my reading fitness. I’m reading books in 1 to 2 sittings. OMG. I love it. I feel like I have a chance to get on top of my out of control reading queue (though for one book read yesterday, I bought two more today … that’s probably bad accounting). And I want to keep this up.

But. It turns out, you need a lot of time to inhale a lot of books. To read 4 books a week. So I’m on a book bender, to the exclusion of almost everything else aka crafting and TV. And I feel guilty or bad or worried about it. Actually, mostly, secretly, I’m worried that it’s one or the other. And that if I try and pick up crafting and get involved in a new TV show, then I might prefer that, or get immersed in that, and leave the reading behind again. I really do stress about this kind of thing. It keeps me up at night.

(Though. Ahem. We decided not to have a TV in the bedroom. Which I *guess* I can see as a good idea. Besides I have my laptop if I really want to watch a DVD in bed. And so I’ve been working on this new bedtime thing where I read a bit in bed before bed. To like, destress and stuff. And also, to make time to do this before I’m sleepy and to get to bed and sleep earlier than my preferred time. To get more sleep blah blah blah. And so yeah, that could also a) help with the getting back into reading and b) maintain the habit asides)

ETA: I’ve spent the evening mainlining a TV show and not reading much at all.