being Archives | Page 7 of 18 | Naive Psychologist

It’s not lunchtime yet, there’s still time

‘So,’ the mister says at 10.30 after I have been to the gym and we have enjoyed the first of the weekend’s computer phone calls, ‘what are your plans for today?’

‘Well,’ I say in a slightly more civil voice than I have employed as I have guided him through the use of the computer phone call technology, ‘if past weekends are anything to go by, I shall fritter the day away on the internet, until such time as I can whinge about having frittered the day away on the internet, at which point I shall begin to whinge.’

‘Yes,’ he says.

I do believe that if I were in the hands of a life coach right now there would be something about this being a critical moment when those who dream become those who achieve. There would be a question I could ask myself, a cognitive shift I could make, a dream book I could refer to. As it is, I will go and have a shower (I did get to my Friday morning circuit class this morning) and then I will make a coffee and a piece of toast, and then I will, I really will go and have a look at that short story I was once enjoying writing.

Movie night

Where would we be if they’d listened to Yoda?

Always believe in solutions

On the plus side, the angsting has been short-lived, and a solution to my problem (which, because of reasons, I can’t really go into, but is, in a nutshell, that I got totally overstretched) has presented itself. Actually – and I am going to give you this lesson for free* – I could have saved myself about two weeks of angst if I’d just asked for what I needed instead of assuming that my request was impossible.

*The reason I’m not charging for this lesson? Because I know that those of you who need this lesson don’t believe me, and, right when you need it most, won’t remember. Wouldn’t life be so much easier if we could all just learn things without first getting a personal lesson?

til tomorrow

Sorry, I’ve got nothing for you on account of being in ~~the midst of yet another bout of privileged middle-class angst~~ in a time of inner reflection, and these are certainly not things which can be posted on the internet without later regret.

Perhaps tomorrow.

And it’s not even 9 am

This morning, while I was waving to someone in a friendly, but not vigorous style, I poked myself so hard that I removed a tiny piece of skin from the edge of my nose.

Careful what you wish for

Where last week I found the constant presence of mosquitoes quite annoying, this week, I find their sudden disapperance disconcerting.

Au revoir, but not goodbye

I have my French class in an hour or so, and I should be finishing my homework, but instead I’m talking to you, because that’s the kind of blogger I am. And also because we’re doing something I cannot remember having studied before and I’m checking the answers before I even try and do it for myself.

This is the last lesson I’ve paid for, and I think I’ll take a bit of a break from them after tonight. I do love it, I love going along to the Alliance and sitting amongst all that French, and I especially love dredging it out of my memory banks while dreaming of times spent in Paris. But my short story isn’t finished, my memoir seems to be on permanent delay and eldest boy is, as you know, learning the recorder. There’s just not time for French right now.

Better go. I’ve got homework to do, and before that I must finish off a bowl of the world’s second-best hommous.

that’s the way my brain works

So this morning, I had this brilliant idea for a book, title included, then I googled around and it seems no one else has thought of it.

Which makes me wonder.
If no one else has thought of it
Is it really such a great idea?

And here we are at the end of April

Friday morning, first day of our weekend, and on account of the extra beer we stayed for last night, I did not go to my absolutely unmissable, always go, never miss it, just love it, 8.30 circuit class. Which is sort of fine, and I’ll be going to the 5.30 pump class instead and I do like that class and that teacher and so on…but now it is 9.30 and by this time on Friday, I usually feel super-good about myself and life on account of it’s only 9.30 and I’ve already done a circuit class, admiring my guns and accepting my buns…and so now the trick is to do something that makes me feel good for the next hour, so that when we get to 10.30, I will not look at the clock despondently and think, ‘Oh, 10.30 already and my life is passing me by.’ And for obvious reasons, that something has to be a little bit simple and not too loud.

Whatever happened to neopolitan?

And for desert, I had creme brulee which, I find, is worth the nine average ones for the one bingo. The mister chose the berry tart which came with ice cream. Flavour? Parmesan. To save you the trouble, I will let you know that Parmesan ice cream tastes exactly as it sounds (though in truth, I have only the mister’s word on this).