Not A Lot On

Someone asked me last night: "So what do you do when you're not working?"

It was such an unsettling question.  I mumbled something incoherent in answer but below is the truth.

• I  sit and drink coffee and watch people and try and assess whether their lives are more interesting than mine
• I listen to my friends talk about their relationships and I offer advice which has basically not a leg to stand on as I am unattached and therefore under-qualified
• I buy clothing to make myself feel fabulous for a few hours, then I panic about the money I have spent and try and make amends by taking my lunch to school for a few days
• I drive around in my car listening and singing to the radio.  Sometimes I imagine I am at an audition and I surprise even myself with my vocal talents.  I do the facial expressions and everything.  I "own" it.  I have, at times, been caught by other drivers performing my imagined scenario.
• I clean my flat but I have to be hating or resenting someone to really do it well.  My anger is a vehicle for really thorough cleaning.  Don't worry, I hate or resent someone at least weekly.
• I hold my phone in my hand and try to think of witty things to post on Facebook or Twitter.  I type and delete hundreds of status updates.  I also over-analyse my obsession with social networking.
• I think about food and what I can do with it
• I think about wine and what I can do with it
• I think about sex and how I never seem to have it anymore
• I attend rehearsals for a musical I'm in and I think about whether I'm actually good or just okay but probably better suited to some sort of drag show. 
• I look in the mirror and consider plastic surgery. Until five years ago, I was always a hater of this kind of self-mutiny / self-mutilation.  Now I understand why women do what they do.  I can't afford it.
• I call to apologise to the friends and members of my family for whom I have once again forgotten to call for their birthday.
• I watch a lot of porn and worry about what it's doing to my hard drive
• I do crosswords in the Herald and play online scrabble and think that it must be good for keeping early dementia at bay
• I have increasingly tame nights out with my friends where we dress beautifully and look amazing and NEVER meet any single men.
• I worry that I will never have another idea for this blog.  I worry that I have nothing to say.  I worry that I say stuff anyway
• I spend quite a bit of time bitching about other people and how they shit me/annoy me/are tight-arses/have awful girlfriends/wear ridiculous clothes/need to address their body odour situation/can't spell to save themselves/can't pronounce certain basic words/are obsessed with their annoying children/are inconsistent and make poor life decisions regularly/are too skinny/are bad drunks/are boring and conservative and judgmental. (hahahaha....how ironic)

But I wouldn't tell anyone any of the above.  Nor would I tell them that I:

• love playing with my nieces and nephews even though I don't do it enough
• love hanging out with my friend Jane and watching her paint and repaint and repaint her nails
• love lying on my bed reading or writing
• love reading the reactions to my blog and checking my stats
• love chatting to my new friend Ruby about how we are the same and have never met www.rubywildflower.wordpress.com
• love singing my guts out with my friends to Air Supply or Heart or some such crap band from the eighties
• love having a good cry about how I'm so not as fabulous as I thought I was but will be okay because everyone who really gets me still loves me even though I can be a selfish nasty bitch

So there is the truth about what I'm doing with my time.  It's pretty lame really.  I hope it helps you feel better about your own home truths.  ;)