Loosing Your Shit

As you probably gathered from last week’s post….I’m bloody knackered. For the last four or five weeks of savage working, I’ve managed to keep on going.
This week I hit my wall. 
I went at about 60mph into a 6ft breeze block monster of a wall. 
I’ve been walking around most of the week feeling like I’ve got jet lag, my reactions are stupidly slow and trying to muster the power of speech has been a challenge at times. Hair washing and make up application are a thing of the past.
In fact it got so bad this week that this is a picture my esteemed colleague took of me on Friday afternoon. 
Yes, yes I am asleep on a desk. Yes, you’ll be pleased to know that I went to the gym this weekend because I hadn’t realised that my back had become ever so wide from my diet of full fat coke and toast.
The tiredness has made me quite irrational. My reactions to stuff aren’t as sane as they were at the beginning of January. I find things are aren’t even funny, so hilarious I’m sure I’ve done a little wee at my desk. I’ve also found myself completely and utterly loosing the plot at mundane things that would normally never bother me. 
Do you ever get that?
Of course you do. And here’s a list of the most common things that make a tired girl loose her shit. All of which happened to me this week. Enjoy. 
Slow Walking People.
Slow walking people on the way to station. People that dither when boarding the train. People that stop and look up at the sites on my way to the office. All of you need to immediately get out of my face, out of my way, out of my life. Before I am forced to sucker punch you in the back of the head to SHIFT YOU ALONG! 
The Breaking Of A Favourite Nail
You all know that nail that you have, that’s a good length, and nice shape…would look great in a jewellery catalogue. Yeah when that breaks….

Shit. Storm

The Spilling Of A Drink.
When all week you’ve been longing to be sitting down, in good company, in a nice pub, with a chilled glass of wine. And on the way back from the bar the wasted tramp girl knocks your elbow and it spills on your boots. That you just cleaned. Yeah – you, me, outside. Right now.
The Missing Of A Train.
Alright Southern Rail, at no point in the last 3 months have ANY of your trains been on time. At the very least you’re always 2 minutes behind schedule. Oh yeah, except today when I chanced another 30 seconds in bed. Today you decide to be punctual and actually provide the service you promise. Whatever. 
The Noise Other People Make When They Eat.
Oh you think that munching on that salad with your mouth open is an acceptable way to go about lunchtime do you? YOU SOUND LIKE A HORSE. Kindly remove yourself from my presence.
Getting Caught In The Rain.
It’s actually quite useful as it washes away the rage tears. But when you arrive at your final destination and your hair resembles SideShow Bob’s…that’s when the red mist really kicks in. So, so pleased I got up an extra ten minutes early to straighten my white girl afro.

 Chuffed. To. Bits. 

Questions.
It’s lovely when your Mum pays such an interest in your working week but by question 765 of a ten minute conversation the red rag/ bull mentality descends. I’m fine. Work’s fine. My general health is fine. Now…silence. PLEASE.
Queues 
I mean, there’s nothing really to say is there. The pure bloody audacity of people wanting to shop at the same time as me, let alone wanting to purchase more than two items, is enough for me to commit third degree murder. Go home. I want to shop, purchase my goods, pack my bags and leave said establishment without stopping walking. When I stop I find it really hard to start up again!
Dressing Yourself

Why is getting changed when you are K-O’d so hard? I’m not being funny but putting on a bra when you’re rolling on minimal sleep is pretty much like completing a Mensa entry exam and is more frustrating than words can really explain.

ARMS. WON’T. REACH. ROUND.

STRAPS TWISTED
RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

& last but by no means least.

The dreaded.

The Non Reply To A What’sApp.
I CAN SEE YOU’VE READ IT – JUST ANSWER MY BLOODY QUESTION. How hard is it just to have basic manners? I mean really, did your parents just drag you up or what?

Jesus.

LLx
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s