It’s currently 4:00am and I’ve been awake a whole twenty-two hours-and-something-minutes. Unfortunately, this have become my norm for the past several weeks whereby I haven’t slept soundly; I’ve hardly slept at all. Being September, whilst the autumn months arise, the sun still has a few hours yet.
The birds however remain chirping; they’re probably one of the only things that are stopping me from going absolutely mad! They’re black birds, one looks no different from the other and yet I can’t help but sit here on my windowsill, imagining what each individual may be thinking, feeling, creating lives for them in my head where the boy blackbirds patrol the streets with briefcases and the girls clean their homes with feather dusters and wear white and pink aprons. How stereotypical of me; I know, I’m sorry. In my head, as the boys waddle down the street they’re whistling the sweet sounds of Simon and Garfunkel and even as I type I smile at this ridiculous, yet endearing imagination of mine.
Even though the sun hasn’t yet got up for the day, I can tell he won’t have his hat on; (is the sun a female or male? I’m more inclined to think male, but correct me if I’m wrong.) Despite the weather woman telling me yesterday that it’d be ‘bright, blue skies and sunshine,’ outside looks as though Susan Hill herself could’ve written the setting. Let’s hope in his case there is no foreboding involved…
Everything outside seems supernatural and I’m almost waiting for the headless horseman to come riding out from the thick fog in the alleyway by my house. Quite frankly, if the headless horseman came with a side of Johnny Depp like the film, I’d have no issue with his arrival,
in fact I’d welcome it with open arms and puckered lips.
My hands and toes alike are icicles and although I’m trying to seek warmth in my thick, fluffy blanket, allowing it to engulf me in one giant cove of comfort, my efforts prove disappointing. With no Vitamin D alongside genetics that make me so white I may as well be the daughter to a sheet of paper, the colour has all drained from my face. I make a mental note to up the dosage of blusher and bronzer later as I look into the mirror, mistaking my reflection for Van Helsing himself. The bags under my eyes from the prolonged lack of sleep have begun to develop into the size of the Grand Canyon – despite having never visited, I’m told it’s rather large so the comparison seems reasonable.
I am half tempted to play music in attempt to no longer feel suffocated by the silence and long for the sound of The Lark Ascending to ring through my boudoir. Much to my dismay, I’m aware of the fact that my parents lie soundly sleeping somewhere in LALA Land and do not wish to disturb them. Not for their sake, but more for mine; they’d be like reincarnations of the Grinch at Christmas time if I was to wake them.
Good things that may or may not occur today if everything goes to plan:
- I’ll finish my English essay that I’ve been prolonging and letting loom over me rather than having it be done with. (AN: if it’s half decent I may post it on here as it’s about Pride and Prejudice and that is the crap I dig.)
- I’ll meet an old friend that I haven’t seen for two years and we will have a right ole’ chin wag. The fact that this also means I get to have a coffee that isn’t instant is a bonus.
- I’ll pick some damsons, a fruit I’ve never tried before, with my parents from the neighbouring fields. IMPORTANT UPDATE: THEY WERE REVOLTING!!!
- My room will get hovered, sheets washed and windows polished. I know that doesn’t sound like a good thing but I enjoy house work and clean, crisp sheets.
If I get that all done it’ll make me feel like I’ve done something partially productive with my day besides moan about the weather; a recurring theme on this blog. It’s now 4:38am so I’m going to do that essay in order to ‘start’ the day on a positive note. Mr and Mrs Bennet here I come…
*YAWNS* Play with this post please: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFf2Yttrw