A link from Terry, who says: “Good for procrastinating for a couple of minutes.” — The Kitten Cannon.

“I’d really love to help you guys paint, since you helped me decorate my room [ed: months ago, with not one finger lifted to help since then]… I’ve got work to do for this promotion board… [insert information about promotion opportunities here]… I’ll be doing this all afternoon.”

I walk into the living room soon after to find her hard at work, learning the intricate plot details of Serenity that will surely score points at the promotion board (comprehension of science fiction principles — an important skill in the civil service). A couple of hours later, Neil walks into the living room to find her hard at work, studying the insides of her eyelids.

It’s almost Christmas.

Firstly, I received my copy of The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl — Shauna’s lard-busting memoir. She said (over a text), Don’t tell me if you hate it because I’ll cry. Shauna, the introduction made me want to cry. I’ve read till right before you leave Oz for the UK, and loving it so far. There’s something even more intimate about reading her memoir, which is based on her diet blog, than reading her blog(s) on their own. Weird, I know.

The Christmas holiday has so far been about painting. We painted the walls in the bedroom today. We still need to prep one wall (the plaster ain’t quite dry yet) for wallpapering, paint the ceiling, paint the cornice (Neil has just patched the bits that needed patched), and finally, paint the skirting and door (that actually needs to be replaced due to non-closing warpiness, but we have our priorities and door stoppers are cheap to buy).

I could just say that I’ve been really busy with work (I have been — this fortnight’s break is a godsend, but I’m shitting myself thinking of how much I need to do when I go back into the office), but the truth is I’m not as, er, candid about things going on in my life right now. I’ve been considering setting up an anonymous blog and using an atrocious template just so I can vent, but I’ve decided that’s not a good idea (writing style possibly too distinctive in the *cough* freestyle use of the English language *cough*).

Basically, this last year has really tested my patience (my patience failed about a month ago). I have recently discovered that I am similar to my father in that once I have decided that I don’t like someone, it’s pretty fucking hard to change that opinion. That doesn’t really bother me, since I live by the saying Behaviour reflects personality. I do not appreciate someone making stuff up about me in order to accuse me of something I haven’t done just so they can win an argument or score an imaginary point.

It’s mostly my fault that I haven’t been exercising in several months. It’s my fault that I live too far from work and I can’t afford the time to go to the gym after dinner, because by the time I’ve finished eating it’s time for a shower and bed. Neil plans (his plans don’t get very far, I’m going to nag ‘im about this) to join his Uni gym as an alumni member, which means I can join a gym near the office and our workout / shower / bus home / dinner can coincide.

My general malaise has made me pretty fucking dull. One major thing I need to do is start doing stuff again. I’m scared of looking for too many things, too many choices causing decision paralysis and all that.

Life isn’t bad but it’s overwhelmingly frustrating.

The Internet! Social networking! A perfect place for hoaxes to flourish. People, check the sob stories!

Every time I receive one of these mass emails asking me to be outraged and sign an email petition, the very first thing I do is search online for confirmation of its status as a hoax — I find that to be the result 100% of the time. Why do people keep falling for this?!

Gah!

I have no idea why I find this funny. Got fleas? Get the vacuum:

They said a standard vacuum cleaner abuses the fleas so much it kills 96 percent of adult fleas and 100 percent of younger fleas.

(Emphasis mine.)

It boggles the mind. I think I must be imagining bruised and battered fleas in a household setting, making excuses about falling down the stairs.

• watched Have I Got News For You and Jonathon Woss
• watched half of Barton Fink (before I got too tired)
• picked Neil up after his office Christmas night out (the day after!)
• had ‘tea’ (as in the meal between lunch and dinner) at Frankie & Benny’s
• watched a bunch of bad/silly/rerun crime drama
• did the weekly shop at Asda
• bought a load of Christmas presents (finally convinced Neil that working in the city centre — as he does — does not make him more likely to buy Christmas presents on time)
• checked out furniture and white goods at some trading estate near Uddingston (thrilling)
• cried a bit at the end of Cranford (the BBC is heartbreakingly good at period drama based on novels)
• cried at the end of Once Upon a Time in England (this book is as excellent as The Poison That Fascinates, but in a wholly different way; put both of these on pre-order now!)

Presenting pensionbook — the social network all the oldies are talking about.

Alerted by a colleague!