Yesterday was a good day. I slept in, which is one of my favorite things in the world to do, except I’m not really allowed to indulge myself all that often. Mostly because sleeping in often means missing the first hour or two of work.
It’s also one of the habits that I get into when I’m severely depressed. Sometime’s it’s hard for me to tell when I’m just being nice to myself, or just a bit stressed, and when I’m being dragged back down into the black hole of depression. I mean, am I spending more time alone because I need alone time, or am I doing it to avoid having to be around people? Am I staying up late because I genuinely am not tired, or am I doing it because I’m spiraling back down into bad sleeping habits?
See? It’s hard for me to tell sometimes. So I tend to err on the side of caution.
I’m assuming that I’ll learn the difference at some point.
So anyway, I slept in yesterday, then I went and met Louise for lunch.
I love this colour, and because it’s a matte, it dries really quickly. I’ve also got the same polish in coral, which I wear EVERYWHERE.
After Louise went back to work, I lay on the grass for a bit longer, napping, and enjoying the sun, and people watching. People watching is awesome. it’s one of my favorite activities ever.
After that I hit the library and paid off my fines. I tend to get a lot of fines, which is why I’ve avoided the library, and video store for the past six months. Not so much because of the money stuff (although, yes, I’m a poor student, who can’t afford to pay off fines) but my real issue with them is the way that the library ladies – in particular – raise their eyebrows and announce it like they’ve just caught me with my skirt up around my waist flashing a priest. “You have Sixteen Dollars, and Fifty cents Overdue Fines” *Insert disapproving look here*.
After earning myself a clean slate with the librarians of Wellington City, I went on a wander through the library picking up books as I went. I ended up with a huge armful of romance books, short stories, and a bunch of Non Fiction stuff – about genetics and DNA, women in politics, the psychological origins of monsters, job interview techniques, a book about code breaking and cyphers, some interesting stuff about animals, and a book called “Spanish for Gringos.”
I’ve got so much choice I don’t even know where to start!
In fact? I had so much choice it overflowed out of my arms three meters from the check-out desk. It took me three return trips to get it all on the counter for the disapproving librarian, who, actually wasn’t all that disapproving. Mostly he just laughed at me.
Then I loaded myself up with my books and headed to the supermarket, where I brought a few household essentials, like marshmallows, chocolate, crackers, and hairdye. (I am such a responsible-adult-type. I haven’t had fresh milk in the house since two weeks ago, but by god I’ll never let myself run out the the real essentials.)
Anyway, when I got home I was feeling all kinds of happy, and relaxed, and just plain old GOOD about myself. I wanted to capture the feeling somehow. It felt like a full stop, and a new beginning, all rolled into one.
So I dyed my hair Cool Spicy Red. (Trust me. This is what us ladies do when we’re wanting a new beginning. We do something weird to our hair.) I also dyed my forehead, my shoulders, my back, my shirt, the bathroom floor, the sink, and my bathrobe. (When I want weird I make sure I do it right.)
Despite the err… Wide coverage… My hair actually looks pretty cool. I’m pretty happy with it.
Then, buoyed up by my awesome day, my fresh new hair, and my general good attitude, I decided to rearrange my room. I moved my bed from the middle of my room, to the corner, and my desk from the corner to the middle – reflecting my desire to move my focus this year from taking to my bed for days at a time to working my tail off, being productive, and indulging my creativity, and thirst for learning.
Also? It looks pretty.
(What? I’m a visual person. The pretty is a big thing for me!)
After it was all said and done I sat down at my desk with a new sense of peace in my room. I loved the new layout, and the new accessibility to everything. I like the feeling of freshness, and the fact that I’d been able to literally clean every nook and cranny of my room as I was rearranging.
Then I tried to plug in Cecelia the Mac Book, to tell you all about how awesome yesterday was. Cecelia’s power adaptor didn’t light up with it’s usual reassuring green. Hm.
I unplugged it, checked the socket, checked the connections, and then tried again. Still no light.
“I’m not panicking.” I told Cecelia, who – truth be told – can at times be a bit of a drama queen. “You’ve done this before, and all I needed to to was jiggle things around.”
Cecelia stayed stubbornly silent.
I jiggled, unplugged, re-plugged, and tried a different connection.
“Cecelia?” I said, with a growing sense of worry “Don’t do this to me. I know you’re an old lady – you’re 6 this year – but I’m not ready to upgrade. I can’t afford to upgrade. I don’t want a newer model. I can’t afford one. Cecelia?! Can you hear me! Don’t you dare do this to me! We have a good thing going on here!”
Cecelia remained unmoved, her lights unblinking.
Then I panicked. Nothing I did would make her work, and the problem seemed to be with the power cable. It’s a major issue, because Cecelia hasn’t worked for three years now, unless she’s plugged directly into a power point. Her battery is fully charged at all times, but she just can’t seem to use it. It’s no problem. I love her just the way she is.
So I cleaned her from top to bottom, using nail polish remover to get all the marks off her caseing until she was as shiny and white as the day she arrived in her second-hand box, from her first owner.
Then this morning I set out on a mammoth trek across the city to find an affordable new power cord. It took no less than four hours of solid walking, before I had to resign myself to the fact that the cheapest power cord in Wellington was $129.00. I’m a little ashamed to have to admit I had to dip into my emergency savings – meant for doctors appointments, life-or-death situations, or organised crime protection payments. ie: I am not supposed to touch that money. Ever. Unless it’s an actual real emergency.
I figured that saving Cecelia was pretty high on my emergency list. Maybe not paying off a mob-boss high, but pretty high.
When I got her home, and plugged her in I held my breath for a moment before her light came on, and then I collapsed gratefully into my desk chair.
“I had you worried, didn’t I?” Cecelia seemed to say, as she powered up smugly.
“Not at all. I knew you’d be fine.” I sniffed, smoothing my fingers on her newly-white keys. “Besides, it’s not like I’m attached to you or anything. I mean, you’re just a possession. I could live without you easily.”
Cecelia hummed knowingly.