Ever had one of those days when everything, and I mean everything, seems like an insurmountable chore, an endless trek through quicksand or a moon walk loop? Where every step feels like it's weighed down by buckets and more buckets of sticky mud and you wish you hadn't gotten out of bed to begin with?
I had one of those today. I woke up at 8 am, my head feeling like it was filled with those beans that are in beanie bags and my eyes seemed to feel rebellious, only opening halfway and then getting whiny and closing again... over and over. And of course my eyedrops had gone MIA during the last cleaning I did... about two weeks ago. I consider them lousy deserters in this ongoing war and as such I fully intend to place them before the Trash-can Tribunal whenever someone next catches sight of them.
It won't be me, since my eyes are glued shut, but I'm hoping the dust rats will cave in to my negotiation skills and undertake the task. Lately we've been in a stalemate, though. They haven't fully given in to my attempts at convincing them I mean them no harm. it could be because my vacuum cleaner are still standing in the middle of the kitchen area.
Anyway, as I was saying (before launching into this completely irrelevant speech about my failures as a negotiator) I had a slow day today. Did some studying, although my work with the thesis is the perfect definition of slow at the moment. I also spent most of it half-way slouched down in my bed, knitting a scarf that will most likely be ready in perfect time for the next ice age and watching Kill Bill, Moon Child and half of Pirates of the Caribbean (strategically skipping over the parts lacking either Johnny Depp or Geoffrey Rush since anything without them just sucks). Then I found myself slowly slipping further and further down in the bed and before I knew it I was in Dreamland along with a couple of vampires and hunting after some thing I have no idea what it was. I doubt the others knew either. And then I woke up, looked over at Allan bell's lovely book "The Language of News media" and promptly decided it was way past time to go to the stables.
And here I am now, back from one of the quickest stable visits I've ever been on, having no idea what to do with myself. I guess I'll look at the cover of "Language of News media" for a while longer and then crawl into bed.