What I Hated (the Least) Today 246/365: What an Awesome Morning

I’m having an awesome morning. Awesome in the sense of fucked up.

I wake up and have a sore throat. This confirms the Slavic superstition that sitting in draught gives you cold. Draught happens when you open windows at the opposite ends of the flat. I did that yesterday because of the heat wave. A pretty badass action. My mother would kill me if she saw that. No need though because now my sore throat is effectively killing me.

As I go to the kitchen drawer to get something for my throat, I open the top drawer so carelessly that stuff in the bottom drawer gets caught and falls behind the drawers. There is so little space around the drawers that I can’t possibly fit my arm in and retrieve anything that falls behind them. My arm is practically a bone wrapped in skin, as I’m underweight, but now I probably need to lose weight to fix my drawer problem.

Things fell behind the drawers before. I had a friend who is a cabinet maker come over and dismantle the drawers so I could take the things behind them out. He couldn’t dismantle the drawers because he said he never saw such a fucked up hinge system before, but he could loosen the drawer enough for me to stick my arm behind it. I learned nothing. I overstuffed the drawer again, and now I’m stuck with a drawer that doesn’t close because of the rubbish behind it. It’s literally rubbish because I use my bottom drawer to store recyclables before taking them out.

Sufficiently discouraged, I go to pee only to step into something sticky and wet. The cat missed the toilet. I don’t know what her problem was this time, this only happens when she’s upset, such as when I leave her home alone. It’s her subtle act of revenge. So off I go to get a bucket, rubber gloves and Savo. You wouldn’t know Savo. It’s an aggressive chemical routinely used in Slavic world for cleaning toilets or, alternately, for sniffing. It’s probably illegal in developed countries. Now my whole flat smells like a meth lab. The cat acts like nothing happened.

As I sit with my knees bent and talk on the phone to the suicide line – not an actual suicide line but a friend who serves me as a suicide line – I notice a drop of sweat trickling down my calf. WTF. I don’t sweat. I perspire. And I don’t perspire. Except under the knees when I bend them. It’s disgusting. I unbend my knees and watch the drop roll through the patch of hair on the calf that I missed when shaving. Like I say, it’s disgusting. While the suicide line suggests that I laugh it off, the cat starts to pole dance round my legs. Her tail wipes off the drop I was watching. Show is over. What a fucked up way to start the day.



What I Hated (the Least) Today 245/365: Weather Radar

Oh, hi, why, I’m new your weather radar.

I’ve discovered that my depression is best pals with weather. When it’s rainy and cold, my depression manifests sympathetic behaviour and I get cryiy and icy as well. It’s good to know, but otherwise it’s idiotic because it’s erratic.

Yesterday it was windy, rainy, stormy and generally ugly. As per usual, I slept most of the day and spent the rest in frustrated attempts to work. Twenty minutes working, thirty minutes staring in the wall. Probably trying to make the brick melt by the power of telepathy.

Today it’s the first day of what is forecast to be a heat wave. Yes, please, yay! I got up early and got a lot of work done. Nothing special, but no stare-offs with the wall either. Also, I managed to zen myself out during my usual morning yoga. (Which on bad days I perform with utmost disgust but stick to the routine to prove to the cat that I can.) Also, I got a foodgasm when I was drinking my favourite coffee-flavoured yogurt drink. (The cat thought I was being obscene.) Also, I cleaned the whole fat and no longer disgust myself. (Which reminds me I forgot to lint-roll the shedding cat.) Also, my cat loves me:


What else is there for me to wish for? (I mean, besides earning enough to pay the rent, having a human company, not being a psychotic loser and a bunch of other things.) Nothing. I could die happy today. Or live unhappily until whenever I’m scheduled to die a natural or unnatural but not self-inflicted death. Currently I’m going with the latter.


What I Hated (the Least) Today 244/365: Bug Infestation

I’m afraid of bugs. Really afraid. Irrationally afraid, as most rational people are. Don’t try to explain to me that bugs are harmless. Whatever sends me in a hysterical fit that makes your hysterical ex look like a sensible, calm and balanced person is the opposite of harmless.

In latest news, the bugs of the world are closing in on me. They have united for a common goal: to kill me. Or, at least, to make me quit smoking because they aggregate at the balcony which I use solely for smoking. I put up a BEWARE OF INSECTICIDE sign but the bugs ignore it because they are dumb. Or they are clever and know that I’m too scared of them to use insecticide on them because it doesn’t kill instantly.

It started creepily with a creepy spider. It would creep out on the balcony each night, for several nights in a row, and disappear with the morning dawn. I’m not sure that I want to know where it went at daytime. Probably to the nearby cemetery to sleep in a coffin because it was obviously a vampire spider. Not only did it prefer the night but it also sucked, that’s why.

Then the spider disappeared for good and my balcony graduated to a moth. While I could tolerate the spider without excessive hysterics, a moth is more than I can bear. That’s what I’m most scared of. The trouble with moths is that, like me, they are hysterical and suicidal. You know how they spend their whole lives madly fluttering around a source of light until they merge with it only to get incarcerated.

The moth also frequented the balcony for several nights in a row. Its presence didn’t prevent me from smoking but reduced me to a ruin. I’d smoke with my eyes fixed on the moth, lest it should move and come for me. At one moment, I thought it was actually plunging itself at me and I jerked so hard and fast that I pulled a muscle in my shoulder.

Totally freaked out, I looked at my hand and thought the moth was sitting on it. Of course, I started flailing frantically, agitating the moth that was actually sitting on the wall, and then I realised the dark something on my hand was my tattoo.

Ready to die from fear, I quickly slid inside, making sure the moth didn’t follow. Unnerved to the extreme, the first thing when I was inside was to step on the cat, who has the bad habit of being always under my feet. I screamed, the cat screamed (nothing happened to her, she’s such a drama queen) and I proceeded to take an anti-anxiety pill. Not minding what I’m doing, I nearly took a sleeping pill instead.

It’s not like I’m for genocide but please, universe, make all moths die. It’s either them or me.

What I Hated the Least Today 243/365: The (Post) Office

Ventured out today on a big trip. To the post office. I live next to the post office.

What I Hated the Least Today 242/365: Home Vista

Haven’t posted a photo forever, so here’s a perfectly bland and uninspiring view out of my window.