I'm at home, watching my 9 year old brother playing online poker, my 5 and 7 year old brother just generally being crazy and my Mum extremely hungover, peeling potatoes and complaining she feels really sick.
I'll quickly tell you that my interview went quite well yesterday, I felt confident, for some reason in job interviews my mouth takes over, my brain takes a back seat and I haven't got a clue what I am saying, except it sounds good!
After the interview I went back to Roberts for 2 hours, he told me he was going clubbing with James, so I made a swift exit. For some reason I was tearful on the train journey home. The only thing I had in my head was the thought that I wasnt good enough.
I dont want to dwell on this, but perhaps it would be a good thing to get down and out of my head, nothing I do is ever good in my mums eyes. I think its her more than me, but she physically cant be positive. For instance, I buy some new clothes, she will think they are 'ok,' nothing special, I get my hair cut and she looks at me like i'm mad to say I like it. I come downstairs today in my suit, the jacket she bought me, and the trousers, but she turned up her nose and shook her head.
She once said these words to me, “i wanted a nice little girl, pretty with blonde hair.”
I was about fourteen when she said that, now don't get me wrong I know she loves me, but i'm not what she wanted or expected.
I'm ginger, naturally, if she wanted a blonde child, she should have had a ginger boyfriend, I dye my hair black, religiously, its what makes me feel best when I look in the mirror.
So anyway I get home and my mums already drunk, she wants me to get drunk with her and has already invited Jodie and Liam over to join the party, for some reason i'm not in the mood to get drunk, this may sound normal, but for me it isn't, I haven't been 2 weeks without drinking for the past 3 years, and yes I know how bad that is, and I honestly want my life to not revolve around alcohol, but its like our hobby.
I'm thinking about how much I want to quite drinking so much, how I want to not be so dependant on my friends, how much I want to eat healthily, and do things that are healthy for me. I'm getting into the phase where I am tired all of the time, but its not correlating with my mood, i'm not depressed, i'm irritated by things and annoyed, and angry at things, but not depressed.
I don't know how to discipline myself enough to be a normal good person, but life is a work in progress, so everything is a work in progress, so i'm not going to give up, no matter how many times I have to press reset and start again.
Back to last night, My mum went to bed, extremely hammered, to say the least, I stopped drinking and made myself, Jodie and Liam, some chips, cheese and gravy, our favourite food.
Jodie decided she could easily do 20 shots of beer, she got to 11 and gave up, Liam took offence to the fact she had said she could do something and then didnt do it, and announced he was going to do nine, which he did.
Robert called me, he was also wasted, “Misha, I love you, how is your night?”
“Not bad,” I say, “Liams done nine shots.”
Robert tells the people in the pub he is in, “Liam's done nine shots.”
“Jodie has only done 11, but she said she was going to do 20.”
Robert repeats it... As Liam pours himself a tenth. Jodie steals the tenth shot, and its her 12th, Liam pours another, and drinks it, and then another.
“Liam has done 11 now,” I tell Robert.
Liam claps his hand to his mouth and runs out of the room, “and now he has been sick!”
“He's been sick,” Robert calls to the pub, “Right Mish, i'm going back in, text me when you go to bed.”
I hang up and look at Jodie, who is looking very pleased with herself, “i think I won!” she says smugly.
I cant help but laugh as I hear Liam being sick, he does it every week, but for the past few weeks has been really good, it served him right, he had already beaten Jodie, by doing his ninth shot, but had to be smug and try and do two more. He doesnt know his limits but still wants to make everything a competition.
We go into the bathroom as Liam has gone quiet. He's sleeping on the floor covered in sick, i'm usually drunk by the time this happens, so it's weird seeing it sober.
Jodie shouts at him, “Get up now Liam!”
He gets up, takes his t-shirt off and threatens to throw it at Jodie, she threatens to slap him if he does, he throws it at her, she slaps him, he tells her she should just go home. Then we all make our way to bed.
Robert texts me i'm smashied in tthe hob loos x
I text back Why are you in there lol x
Robert – On the flopor
Robert (again) – Totakky ficked, need to sdiber uop x
Me – Get up and wash ur hands and pretend you're sober. U ok yeah? X
Robert – Y needf eda we, ytwh in foois x
Robert (clearly concentrating) – I meant, i'm good. X
After that I lay down and try and sleep, it takes about an hour and I get quite stressed out.
I wake up to a horrendous head ache, get up, come downstairs and write my blog.
No comments:
Post a Comment