Damn and blast the crime book series I’m reading (a Polish one, so I won’t bother with the titles as it’s not likely you’re ever going to find it)! Another novel ends on a massive cliff-hanger and so obediently I’m jumping straight into the next installment to find out the hows and whys of the whole thing. Small blessing that at least this particular series is already written and even if it wasn’t, the author is pretty prolific so I wouldn’t have to wait too long anyway. I’m a completionist (which is another word for “sucker”), I’m getting better though, it used to be that if I started a series I simply had to finish reading it, even if I hated everything about it (yes Robert Jordan and Kate Elliott, I’m talking to you). These days I usually manage to disentangle myself by about book two if I’m not enjoying it. Life’s to short for reading books you don’t like.
Anyway, I have nothing better to do, I’m propped in my bed, surrounded by tissues and lozenges, drinking unholy amounts of hot liquids, smelling strongly of Vics VapoRub, downing my doses of cough syrup and other concoctions trying not to get extremely irritated by what I can’t help but perceive as an unlawful imprisonment. I have stuff to do damn it, jobs to find, hot buttered rum to drink in a new swanky pub, walks to walk and friends to meet! I went out for a short walk a couple of days ago though and that resulted only in my getting decidedly worse, so I guess I better do my time and let this bs of a cold/flu/bug/whatever the hell it is go away organically. And in meantime, as my brain is refusing cooperation in any more serious undertaking, I shall read violent murderous fiction. The violence and murder are somehow soothing. I’m not sure what that says about me…
I’m not really certain about writing this post either. Today’s prompt did very little to spark my imagination, so instead I’m treating is as a permission to unleash an unfair one-way stream of discontentment at the world in general, and my present affliction in particular. Can you tell that I really don’t like being sick? I know, I know, nobody really likes being sick. And it’s not like I’m suffering from anything serious, it’ll go away in a couple of days. But I guess that’s kind of the point, that it isn’t anything serious, it’s just a bloody cold (or something along these lines), so how dare it make me feel so miserable and prevent me from operating at full capacity?! Normally I’d probably try to just power through and go about my day but I have been quite a bit run down lately, so it is hitting me a bit harder than it usually would. So bed it is, and hot drinks, and Vicks, and lozenges and crime stories and moaning to the strangers on the internet.
Although I had my little chuckle for the day earlier this morning. I woke up, clogged up, heavy-headed, feeling like death on a stick and to try and put myself in some sort of a decent mood I made myself a lemsip, put on headphones with the cheer-me-up playlist I came up with last night and started listening. After a while I realized that I was sort of vaguely rocking in rhythm with the song in the bed, dressed in my warm flannel red pjs, hot lemsip in one hand, a tissue in another, wheezing quietly to myself after Iggy Pop “I’m a real wild child” A wild child indeed… 😀
Speaking of cheer-me-up lists, mine are usually weird. They have the normal stuff – cheery upbeat songs, power-strutting melodies, cheesy but entertaining pop/rock/dance numbers but there are always some things there that make people unaccustomed to my brain’s twist and turns look at me a bit funny. I don’t care, I will go to my grave claiming that for example “Killing in the Name” by Rage Against the Machine is one of the happiest songs on this planet! There is simply no happier thing to do than shouting very loudly “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me!” over and over again, whether you’re a teenager or a 35 year old woman. And as to why for instance “Creep” and “Looser” and “Panic” make it to my happy lists? Because fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me, that’s why 😉