I am ignoring the retching sounds of the Monkey, her newest tantrum trick, and laughed when the Possum had a tantrum tonight stamping his leetle feet. I work late hours even though I could probably come home sooner if I was willing to sacrifice reputation. I bite my nails when I'm stressed and if it's bad the skin around them too. I pick at my toenails and I sit with my legs crossed tailor style at the table (and often at work). I used to buy too many cheap and nasty clothes that never suited me and sit in piles waiting to go to Vinnies. I buy too many flowers and watch as the petals fall on the floor instead of sweeping them up and I often don't brush my hair.
I should have helped Bingley cook dinner tonight (I actually got home before he started cooking!) but instead played with the Possum on my webcam. I cling to memories that others have forgotten, and spend more time dreaming than paying attention in lectures. I talk too much and not enough, I sometimes go to parties and don't feel like circulating so I plonk myself somewhere and let the mountain come to me. I whinge about paying essential bills and then book an exorbitantly priced restaurant for Paris, just because the hedonism of it feels good.
I can't just find a story interesting, I have to dig at the bones of it until I've discovered its very secrets and my friendships can be similarly probing. I have no qualms taking naked photos of myself, celebrity stories be damned. I sometimes laugh at ridiculous names and I have been known to pick apart someone else's outfit, which is possibly more shameful than a bad habit, and invites proverbs invoking glass houses and projectiles.
I'm lazy with my writing and often settle for near enough, or not even close. I often have good ideas that would be lovely if I sat down and pieced them correctly, but I'm lazy and slop it together anyway and hide under the "it's just a blog" excuse. I love reading embarrassing novels in public places and will flash a lurid Mills and Boon at an onlooker just to see their reaction.
I am messy and chaotic, but seek order. I love the look of clean minimalist living with everything in its place but secretly harbour French dusty bric a brac chic fantasies. I am forever starting drawings or paintings and never finishing them. I learned how to knit and have at least 6 projects in my basket that haven't been touched since 2007. I was late to work today because I decided at the last minute I wanted to wear eyeliner.
|At least the eyeliner looked nice|
|Ahem, this is on a *good* day|
|My Mum gave me these from her garden, so they don't count as a bad habit. They're kind of here to break up my terrible habits...|
|Shoes dumped in the doorway, bag same, ignoring the bag and shoe racks I actually walked straight past|
|Learning to braid my hair while reading blogs instead of studying|
|Tights because I'm overdue for a leg wax|
Hmm, is that enough yet?