19.03.13- Black Dogs, Early Christmases & Sibling Love

I haven't posted anything on here for nine days.
NINE DAYS.
That's practically like the whole lifetime of some sort of fly.
I can't be bothered to update every little detail as I'd get bored and so would you. To be honest I'm surprised this even gets so many views; is my life that interesting or is yours that crap? I appreciate it anyway. Keep the kind comments coming, they make me feel like Jesus, thanks.
Unless you're all just pitying me, like when you tell the fat kid in PE "Oh but just because running isn't for you, you're good at other things. No other 10-year-old has been in the Guinness Book of World Records for eating 46 French Fancies in 10 minutes. Now you're really good at that."
Just know it was filled with 4 nights of wine, a jazz night in Uplands, a surprise birthday party, a drink with someone I haven't seen since my birthday and of course a poetry night at Mozart's. And a lot of unsubtle ogling of my lecturer. My appreciation of his face has reached a ridiculous level and I can't actually hold his eye without breaking eye contact and blushing like a bottle of Heinz. I've also embarrassingly noted that I start shaking after I've spoken to him.

I swear my essay wasn't handed in like this

I think all those hours writing about sex and bodily fluid in Dylan Thomas' poetry have finally had quite an effect. I'm going to end up like a little terrier that humps everybody's leg.

Hugh Grant: great during times
of high hormonal instances

Right, let's fast-forward, essay handed in, considering PhD, looked at TEFL courses, applied for Masters funding, will probably re-evaluate life plans another 400 times anyway, blah blah...and here we are today. I've been in a terrible mood these past couple of days. I'm used to bad moods occasionally; as a woman, you deal with that shit with hot baths and chocolate and Bridget Jones' Diary. But then there's what I call the "black dog" mood, which goes a step further. It is just that: like a black dog that follows you around and you don't know why the hell it's there but once it smacks you down with its paw it's hard to get back up. So you stay in bed.

Fuck off, Rover

And when the night comes, your thoughts don't leave you alone and you find yourself tracing the patterns in the ceiling and listening to the seagulls at 4am.
But tonight I feel much better, which is good. It means I'm getting better at pulling myself out of it before I get stuck, which I absolutely can't let happen when I'm so close to my final ever exam and the end of my degree. I nearly dropped out of Uni in the second year because I saw no point in anything and I will not get to that point again. So I did the things that I know make me feel good and put my Uni reading on the back burner for today.
9am lecture was never going to happen. It was pissing down again and there's not a single Shakespeare lecture this term that has honestly felt in any way useful. And I happen to really dislike rain.
Yay, lie-in.
It was nearly 12pm and I was lying in bed wondering what the hell to do for 7 hours (when I'd be meeting my sister to introduce her to the sweaty world of the gym) when I had a phonecall.
"Play area today?" My little brother.
How the hell could I say no? He has the cutest little voice ever. It's about 2 octaves too high, and everything he says sounds so bloody innocent. For example as we got out of the car so I could take him to the play area he said to me, "It's such a lovely day." I love how children are so innocent and they notice all the little things and are fascinated by them. I think the more you can think like a child sometimes, the more you can really live in the moment and appreciate life.

My ginger ray of sunshine

I was learning life lessons from a 4-year-old.
He was such an angel the whole time and spending that quality time with him and seeing his little face light up cheered me up more than anything ever could. I bought him lunch and won him a toy and he got more and more excited and stood on the chair next to me, turned to me quite seriously and said: "Natalie, I love you for taking me to the play area." And gave me a big kiss.
And that was my day made.
He also gave me a card to take home. Yes, it says "Merry Christmas from Callum" on it, but it's the thought that counts and I've put it on my desk. I keep smiling every time I see it. As I was dropping him home, we were discussing bedtimes. He told me he was a good boy and went to bed at seven.
I told him I was a naughty girl and sometimes didn't get to bed until the morning because I've been out.
He was horrified. As I said goodbye, he said, "Bye bye Nat, love you. I'm telling Mammy you go boozing."
Cheers, bro.
Then home to get my stuff together and head to the gym. I thought this would be a repeat of circuit training with my sister when she started gasping on the sidelines after 5 minutes asking when we get to go for a fag break.
But she really surprised me. She even showed me up on the rowing machines; she has the upper-body strength of Action Man whereas I couldn't arm-wrestle an earthworm.
And they don't even have arms.

My cats do not share my
enthusiasm for the tub

It felt great to burn up some energy for an hour with some intense cardio and sit-ups and a cheeky bit of planking. I found I worked harder, the time went faster and I really enjoyed the whole workout when I had company. I'm not usually social when it comes to exercise, especially running, but at the gym you can go at your own paces and it feels good to have someone there to feel exhausted with. It motivates you to work a lot harder.
Now after a hot bath (the imaginary cats scattered; they don't do baths) and a meal and a cup of tea, I'm feeling the best I've felt for a few days. My anxiety has eased off a bit tonight. I'm thinking of my siblings and smiling. One may be a super-happy, squeaky-voiced, Garfield-worshipping 4-year-old and the other a hair-and-makeup-loving, fake-tanning girly-girl but both of them have made me feel so lucky and I love them both to bits. Yes, my sister and I often want to smack each other stupid with Tefal frying pans. Yes, we have on more than one occasion called each other the sort of things usually only heard on a particularly heated episode of the Jeremy Kyle Show. But I am proud of her, and opposites though we may be, we know that no matter how many times we swear to kill the other in a battle worthy of a scene from Gladiator, we will always always have each other's backs.
Sibling love is pretty special.

Natalie and Emilie Holborow. You'd never
have said they were opposites