I DON'T WANT TO BE KILLED BY MACHETE-WIELDING DOLPHINS, SO HERE

So I knew when I decided to start a blog that there was no way in hell I'd be able to post daily so I didn't even try. I did, however, think that a weekly post was achievable but - turns out - that's a bit out of my reach also. It's all right though - I'm used to having unrealistic expectations of myself so whenever my tendency to procrastinate stops me from achieving my goals I just put it down to that. I'm so good at convincing myself that I was aiming too high to start with that I don't even bother stopping to consider whether it's actually true. I'm pretty much the perfect procrastinator and, frankly, I think I deserve some recognition for that.

A big part of the problem is that I've been pretty focused on some other stuff for the past couple of weeks so I haven't had a lot to write about. I actually had a dream last night that I was back at school (a common dream of mine that I have yet to categorise as fantasy or nightmare as it usually seems to be a combination of both) and was assigned the task of writing something about myself. That's easy, thought I, I already write a blog. I've got heaps to say. But then I went to start writing and I had nothing. At all. Which basically means that I am now having nightmares about blogging.

Oh sure, it's not so bad now. Not exactly the type of nightmare that has me waking up in a cold sweat afraid to go back to sleep in case I find myself right back in the jaws of whatever death I woke myself to escape from. Yet. But just wait. It won't be long before I have the same dream again. Only at the same time I realise that I have nothing to write about, I'll also realise that I'm not wearing any clothes. And I'm on the toilet. And there are spiders. And then suddenly I'll be running down the street from an army of dolphins that have learned how to walk on land and are all carrying machetes and yelling at me in their dolphin language that this wouldn't be happening if I could just find something to write about only I won't understand what they're saying because I don't speak dolphin and even if I did it wouldn't help me anyway since having to run away from machete-wielding dolphins is probably the worst source of inspiration ever as well as being the worst time to try to compose anything that isn't "oh god, somebody help me, I'm going to die!"

But it's Christmas in a couple of days, and then New Year's Eve, so there'll surely be something to keep the dolphins away. I hope.

I'M NOT AN ALCOHOLIC. BUT MY NEIGHBOURS MIGHT THINK I AM.

I once went for a job where they wanted to know how many drinks I would have in a week and I answered three to four, which is a lie because three to four is just the number of drinks that I have on a Sunday when I go to my mum's for dinner.

Now I'm not embarrassed by how much I drink and I certainly don't consider myself to be a problem drinker, but saying that I have eight to fifteen drinks a week, or more if I have a "big night", kind of makes me sound like I'm an alcoholic. Which I'm not. Even though there was that one time that I tried to give up drinking for six weeks and only lasted two.

Actually I probably should have known that I was going to fail because it was only about a week after I'd spent the last few Saturday nights drunkenly informing everyone within earshot that I loved drinking so much that I considered it a hobby. This may also be why I drew a blank when I went for an interview for the aforementioned job and they asked me what my hobbies were.

Anyway, I'm thinking of putting the empty bottles into the rubbish because I think there's more in there to cushion them than there is in the recycling and at the moment every time I empty the indoor recycling bin into the outdoor recycling bin it sounds like we've had a party. Which would be fine if we ever had people over to the house. But we don't.

Actually, there have been a few times this year when I've had people over, but that resulted in even more bottles and having to make more than one trip out to the recycling bin so probably now they just think that all my friends are family are alcoholics as well.

So I guess what I'm saying is that the judgmental attitudes people hold towards alcohol are turning me into a liar. And they're also bad for the environment.

Or it could be that I'm worried I might drink too much.

But I'm pretty sure it's the first one.

I DON'T REALLY KILL DOLPHINS

Yesterday I had the doctor check out my ganglion since I was there anyway and because I wasn't entirely certain that I'm not growing a second head on my hand. He asked me if it hurt or if it had hurt when I first noticed it and I said that it didn't and then he looked at me strangely as though I were some kind of lying freak who wouldn't admit that her ganglion hurt so I felt compelled to tell him that it did hurt when I first noticed it after I poked at it and pressed on it for about ten minutes. But that didn't seem to help.

Today I sent a Facebook message to my friends asking them to save the ring pulls from their cans for reasons I refused to reveal to them. But then I realised they would probably assume I wanted them for choking dolphins, so I did tell them and then my friend sent me this

which I thought was so hilarious that I had to share it.

Then I thought I should probably explain that neither of us would actually feed anything to a dolphin that would make it choke (even though I don't really like them because of that one time when I was swimming at dusk and I saw a dolphin in the waves, but I thought it was a shark) and that, in fact, she's actually a vegetarian so she wouldn't even kill a dolphin to eat it. I probably wouldn't either, but that's mostly because I don't like seafood.



They're practically the same

Also yesterday I shared this post by The Blogess on my Facebook page and ended up accidentally implying that the reason I don't have Christmas tree is that I hang babies from them and my cats eat them. Which is much more interesting than the real reason so I decided to go with it.