onlyemma's Diaryland Diary

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Unemployment is underrated.

So the drift towards alcoholism isn�t happening due to expense and all. And the fact that I�m not so into alcohol anyway. I�m more into my tea; now there�s something you can�t beat.

The other day I was out with my friend who was doing some filming, and I was filming too; and we went back to someone�s house so that my friend Mark could do a photo shoot for this band. So I was sitting watching a film in the living room while they did that and I got asked if I wanted a cup of tea. Naturally, I accepted this kind offer, as I will never turn down tea (unless it�s in a dirty mug or is made by a machine, but even then I�d give it 5 minutes of careful consideration). However, just as this person was turning towards the kitchen to put the kettle on, I did something incredibly rude. I started telling him the specifics for the perfect cup of tea; just how long to leave the tea bag in for, how much milk to add, just how much sugar I want (which depends on the specifics of the mug with regards to the tea/sugar ratio, and then there�s, of course, people�s different takes on what is a �heaped� sugar).

I couldn�t just say �yes, please. One sugar�.

Anyway, I was eventually told to go and make my own tea, as the chances of getting it wrong and me going into meltdown, just seemed too high. So I made my perfect cup of tea, perfectly, and realised just how high maintenance I really am, and for a few seconds I felt really sorry for the man who ends up with me. And for the men who have had to put up with me in the past.

I really think I place too much emphasis on the small things in life. For example, I could go crazy when I see someone eating a gingerbread man the wrong way. I really could.

The daily walking�s going well still, though it�s not quite so brisk anymore. As I have nothing to do most days, I�ve taken to sleeping in and then waiting until my next-door neighbour Shelley is back from college before dragging myself out of bed and doing anything. We go on the usual route, which now ends up with us sitting in the graveyard behind our houses, reading our books and getting verbally abused by school kids on their way home. They like to loudly inquire "WHAT YOU DOING?" like our heads in our books isn�t evidence enough. I really hate being shouted at by smart-mouthed teenagers; I'm going to start shouting "heroin!"

I like our walks though, as they have become quality time and Shell and I catch up on what�s going on in each other�s lives; and though there�s very little going on in mine, I always manage to say a whole lot more than Shelley.

Yesterday we were sitting in the graveyard again and it was really warm, the sun was shining and the birds were singing and it felt perfect; I felt like I was exactly where I should be at that moment. Shell and I talked about how much we loved reading and how we don�t understand people who don�t read because it�s the best thing in the world, and then our conversation moved onto how coconut smells a bit like piss. Which it really does.

And this is what my days are like now, and thus far unemployment has proved to be just lovely. Lots of walking, thinking, reading, lying on my bed, the odd two hour nap when the mood takes me, and the occasional Diagnosis Murder marathon. Top notch.

4:37 p.m. - 2007-03-28

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