Blaaarrrrgggghhh....I hate working

It's so late.

Wow...

Now sleep deprivation has taken on a whole new meaning.

Mmm...how the light seems to hum...things are trailing.

I think I've stared at the freckles on my arms for about an hour now...damn procrastination. Must have another cup of coffee...but that means having to go to the loo....and this place is deserted, apart from me, and that would mean going to the scary loos alone...where there are freaky noises...and the fluorescent lights flicker on and off in a that Japanese-Horror-Film-way. Mmm...where is that pesky security guard anyhow?

I think my freckles look like constellations of stars....whoooaaa....my thoughts are running away with me. Still at work...still have hours to go editing this God-damned magazine....keep looking at the pretty pictures...once again I watch the letters dancing on the page...they look so freakin pretty, but I wish they would stand still. It feels like I need pins to stick them in place - like a collection of rare insects. Oh no...another scary thought...I'm gonna have to walk to the place I'm lodging tonight...damn...it's dark. Right now I wish I didn't watch so many zombie films. Ok...getting scared....logging off.

Concussion & Swedish Chocolate

Well, just when you think things couldn't get any worse than Sleep Deprivation...some piece of furniture decides to attack you. In the last two weeks I've hit my head really hard twice - which cannot be good - especially since the second time I saw the kind of twinkly happy stars that only cartoon characters are meant to see.

The first time - I slipped on the new yuppy-wooden floors in the new apartment and fell hard on my bottom, before smacking my head. I lay on my back for a little while, just looking at the ceiling...wanting very badly to blame someone other than myself for this unfortunate event. I had that feeling that little children get when they decide to throw tantrums in supermarkets...it was that feeling of wanting to cry and scream really loudly - so that others in your immediate vincity can suffer. Sigh. However, I was alone...so I just raised an angry fist towards my Chamaedorea elegans (pot plant) - which was the only witness to my sad, clumsy fall. I even felt like shouting at it "What the fuck do you think you're looking at all safe in your little corner over there, huh?"....but it seemed to wilt under my angry gaze...so I felt bad and just got some ice from the fridge and made a makeshift icepack with a Sainsbury's packet. It was then that I realised that the icecubes I had were also shaped like stars (God bless Ikea). This made me feel a little sick...so I decided only a glass of wine would do and that helped.

The second time it was a piece of flatpack furniture that came crashing down on my head with the kind of 'thwaaaack' sound that should only happen when Kung Fu Masters crack planks of wood with their hands, or just after lumberjacks shout 'timber'. Anyhow, it hurt. This time I thought I saw little Swedish milkmaids as well as stars dancing around my head. I cried...then made another icepack with my star-shaped icecubes and when that didn't help...I ate chocolates - a whole freakin box of them ha ha ha ha (insert maniacal laughter here) followed by half a bottle of red wine (insert even more maniacal laughter here) ha ha ha.

Well, needless to say. Last night was my first good night's sleep since I moved into the flat. Saying that I slept like the dead would be an understatement.

Triptych

I'm getting sick of seeing my own face...so these are absolutely the last piccies of me that will grace this blog ever. These are for my friends Roy and Sarah (miss you guys) who want to know what I look like after our long time apart.

Ah...So This Is Sleep Deprivation

I'm so tired...that all the letters on my screen look like small, wobbly insects as I'm typing this...and that can't be good. For some reason I'm not sleeping very well and my usually 'well-behaved' imagination is now intruding upon my nap time...plaguing me with ideas for poems and novels at the most inappropriate moments.

My right hand is covered in ink from writing so much and yesterday I walked around with a great smear of blue across my cheek without even realising it...that's the last time I suck on pens for inspiration...I'm surprised I haven't had any allergic reactions to the amount of ink I've swallowed...it's definately time I resorted to writing in pencil...or else get a laptop (ooohhh...thinks of shiny white Apple Mac). For the moment I will just have to deal with looking like a Mentat from Frank Herbert's 'Dune' what with my purple-blue stained lips and all....in fact (glances in a mirror) sleep deprivation is making me look thinner...and kinda zombified...a bit like the Zombie Pinup Girls (see in my links) I found on a darling fellow blogger's site (Queen Tilly U Rock ^^).

My work load seems insurmountable at the moment and my eyeballs hurt from reading so much. In three weeks I have to tutor a group on 'The Wide Sargasso Sea' by Jean Rhys, 'The Merchant of Venice' by Shakespeare, while editing a creative writing magazine and studying the Metaphysical Poets! Aaaarrggghhh, all my illusions of grandeur shattered - my desire to start Wu Shu Kwan and fly through the air like Jet Li dashed upon the harsh, sharp rocks of reality (what a crappy metaphor that was...I am tired).

Anyhow...new flat rocks....except that I'm scared to use anything, terrified of breaking something and even more afraid of starting fires in my somnambulistic state...think I better order Chinese takaway tonight.

Me pissed off

Boxing Day

I'm currently living out of boxes. The new flat is awesome...but my creativity is at an all time low. It's pretty amazing, apart from the pervading smell of rotting fruit that comes from living so close to Tooting Market, which while convenient makes me remember some of the places I've lived in Africa a little too well. The garbage tip outside the flat was initially filled with fermenting avocados and mangoes...a smell I would not wish on anyone. Hopefully the noxious liquid oozing from the refuse will simply seep away in the next couple of days...or else I might go mad. As it is I can't even drink fruit juice at the moment...and I can't even bear the thought of eating a mango!

The move went well though...but people aren't wrong when they rate it as stressful as divorce or suffering the loss of a loved one...bloody hell I feel weird. At least I get to watch Sin City tonight and maybe drown out the sound of my disgruntled bank account...sigh.

Tooting is a fascinating mixture of people. The markets are colourful and bright. The air is filled with strange smells: spices, fruit, incense and sweetmeats. I feel like I've moved to another country, when in reality I have only moved a couple of kilometres. However, today I plan to explore and walk around...because my hands testify to the fact that I have done far too much cleaning in the last few days and I deserve a break.