LHB Blog

A girl, a blog and a cactus named Pudding

Tag: spoonie (Page 1 of 7)

The Lotus Pose

Alternative title : I achieved my life goal of becoming a pretzel and now I can retire to live by the sea and eat sand or some other shit that happens when life-goals are conquered … Wait, is eating sand part of a balanced diet now? Which food group would it even be in? Argh! 

Brain : “Stop! Where are you trying to put that foot?!”

Me : “Over by my thigh … ”

Brain : “Over by your … What? Why?!”

Me : “I’m trying to go full Lotus here!”

Brain : ” … What the heck is wrong with you?”

Me : “There. See! We managed it! We managed full Lotus! Aren’t you excited? This is awesome!”

Brain : “If I had a mouth I would have been sick into it … How has the knee not popped or … Actually it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to know. Don’t come crying to me if you’re now stuck you absolute tool”

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Puzzle Pieces

Alternative title : I’m sure there is a sadistic asshole who removes one of the central pieces from jigsaws in order to test the recipients patience … I mean, it’s all well and good having everything else in order but if you can’t complete it you kinda feel like you’re missing something significant, even if it is just Snoopy’s inane grin. 

If you read my last post you’ll be aware that I’ve been a little bit up shit creak without a paddle recently … My Mental Health has taken a nose dive and my Migraines have taken that opportunity to thoroughly kick my backside. There is nothing quite like being blind in your right eye at 4am while your Anxiety runs through a multitude of possible reasons for it (courtesy of Google’s Guide to Self Diagnosing) while the actual cause (the sneaky Migraine) smirks away in the darkness at the ensuing panic … Loki has nothing on those evil cretins!

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Home Sweet Home

Alternative title: I have acquired so much tat and crap in all my years on this earth that I am standing amongst the ruins of many a textbook, items of clothing and magazines filled with bullpoop on how to lose weight with the dawning realisation that I am going to need another skip. 

I am practically on first name terms with the guys and gals at our local recycling plant, I rock up with my car filled to the brim with 1980’s newspapers and an assortment of garments I haven’t worn since I was last out of my tree on Cider and Black (ah, the drink of champions) or bladdered on red wine (which is the drink of sophisticated champions  … Who like to ride bucking broncos and drink cocktails out of bartenders trousers … I was a student ok!).

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Moving House

Alternative title: We have the keys! I repeat – WE HAVE THE KEYS! THIS IS NOT A DRILL PEOPLE! 

We also have no internet … I know right?! How archaic! So in the meantime I’m snaffling my parents internet under the pretense of needing to put 31 years worth of shit (not literal shit obviously) into cardboard boxes. Quite frankly it would be a faster process if I didn’t feel the need to read random pages of books I haven’t seen since 1993 that had been hidden away in the backs of various shelving units. I fear I own a library’s worth of literature that I now need to cart about.

I may also have had a moment (or two) in which I started hugging my Molecular Cell Biology book and crying about what might have been if I’d carried on in academia.

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