catchmyfancy: Simon Pegg as Nicholas Angel in "Hot Fuzz" - crop shot of his bloodied face looking intense (N. Angel)
Pulling 12-hour days at the moment: it's like an addiction. 

I wake up at 6am (usully - irritatingly - about 90 seconds before the alarm goes off) and I'm in at work between 7 and 7.30am.  Then I'm there and going hard until about 7pm (or later).

And it's working.  I'm even keeping up a pretty full gym schedule.  And I have some Christmas presents bought.  And the crazy-crazy overtime is not going to hurt my bank balance.

But oh just so so switchoff when I get home.   Seem to have lost the ability to make decisions once I'm here.  And after going to all the trouble to make the pretty blog to keep track of the family's Christmas presents, I am now completely unable to pick something - jeez - anything! - off each niece's list to buy.  *sigh*  (Anybody want to pick something for Isa, Josie, Bea or Georgie?  Put it in a comment.  Oh PLEASE.)

I remember the german wife of one of my singing teachers talking about "just living through my eyes" and I understand that now - I just want to passively look at things.

But stuff is getting DONE at work and we are almost very slightly....ahead? (shhh! don't tell anyone!)

Having taken you on a brief tour of my alternate universe lifestyle, it is time for bed.  At 9.45pm.  Gah.  Because on Tuesday I did my workout and barely cracked 155 bpm on the heart-rate monitor.  Today it was 160+ routinely.  oooooops. Not recharging the batteries will do that to you.

catchmyfancy: (unstable)
Otherwise known as "Alexandra turns into a small child with the attention span of a gnat and the emotional stability of a psychotic wildebeest who knows he can take those lion beeyatches DOWN.  Oh roll on the 23rd of December when she shall be restored to her humanity as per the more amusing transformation fanfics" time.

Or, rather, I start living moment to moment. To moment.  To moment and to moment.  And if you type that word five times it loses all meaning.  Heh. 

Eg, today. 

- Woke up at 8.10am, which is pout-making for a Sunday.  So I pouted. 
- had to put three loads of clothes on line.  In the process had to survey the ever-growing and slightly scary MEGAPILE of clean clothes to be put away.  More pouting.  Also, sighing. 
- after finally extracting the necessary items of clothing from the MEGAPILE to appear decent in public and remembering stuff for singing lesson, no time for breakky.  Pouting. And sighing and bitching.  As I live by myself, this was all completely wasted bitchage too.
- had shower, raced out of house and off to Ingrid's.   (Yes I remembered to put on clothes).  Car low on fuel.  Crap.  BUT THEN I get to drive fast on the freeway and sing along loudly to Young Person's Music on my iShuffle.   You should hear me do Justin Timberlake singing Cry me a river.
-
Miss Ingrid!  Hurrah!  Miss Ingrid let me have two muesli bars!  More Hurrah!  And also we picked much green leafy things from her vegie garden for me to take away and eat.  Extra Hurrah!
- Off to Lisa's Lacies.  Nothing decent in my size.  Bah.  BUT THEN a reduced-price bra!  And Kindi and Ingrid both managed to find FOUR EACH <loud cheers!> (only well-endowed females will truly know the feeling of jubilation in our hearts at that monent, for it seems that nature cursed rather than blessed us by giving us a feature requiring expensive cantilevering and if you can find something decent for under $60 you are doing excessively well)
- BUT THEN looked at mobile and saw plaintive SMS and realised I was supposed to meet Melinda yesterday after a concert and clean forgot oh crappity crap crap crap I am an evil, EVULL friend and should die
- bundled off to a factory outlet place by Ingrid and Kindi and found Leather Bag of Surpassing Loveliness and Utility for Everday at half-price.  Extreme happiness.  But I am an EVULL FRIEND and Melinda will surely hate me for just forgetting her.  *sob* *schniff* (That whirring sound you hear is Ingrid's and Kindi's eyes rolling).
- off to singing lesson.  Singing lesson went very well - Butterfly and Pace Pace sitting very nicely indeed.  Endorphins released all over the shop and I get to skip out to my car.
- Drive in to city.  Sun shining!  Cool wind whipping about!  More singing along to my iShuffle!  This time, many people along St Kilda Road got to hear snippets of me doing Gabriella Cilmi , John Barrowman, Green Day and bits from Wicked
- BUT THEN here I am in at work.  BLEH.

BUT THEN: found this on Youtube: She-Ra and Evil-Lyn do "Loathing" from Wicked!  Bwahahahahaha!

(oh all right - here's the original.  Sort of. Not nearly as fabulous.)

And it's only been six hours since I got our of bed.  I don't know if my adrenal glads are up for another five weeks of this.
catchmyfancy: (destiny)
 It's that time of year again folx: the triannual* Student Whingefest.  

Offers for graduation have been released into the wild and of the gazillion students who have called me up: not ONE of them has liked the one they caught.  Harrumph. (which is coincidentally the sound made by a graduation offer that has spotted a student lurking in the undergrowth clutching a Jolly Big Net and Looking Hopeful).

Do not go looking to bask in the warm glow of joie de vivre that usually emanates from those of us here at CatchMyFancy** - it ha been cruelly repressed by the oxygen thieves I am obliged to call my "clients".

In the manner of my people, I have been acquiring posessions to make me feel better.  

Today a very nice, very....strapping bloke delivered a gorgeous antique leather chair all the way from the Ancestral Seat (as it were) to sit resplendent in my living room as a classiness counterpoint in one corner to the way gorgeous piano of the [profile] kirmish in the other.  The piano is so lovely, it makes all my other furnishings look like candidates for the Salvos.

And on the weekend I bought this.  

For performances, doncherkno, and NOT AT ALL so I can swish about in purple-and-golden-dragon-velvet, noooo.

*According to the OED, this means both "three times a year" AND "lasting for three years" so I think we can safely say it's not a happy, fixed word and therefore should not be used lightly.  I just couldn't bring myself to use the word "thrice", which makes me feel like I'm singing something Purcellian.  

**Okay, so mostly there's just me.  Except when there's them as well.  But we don't talk about that in much the same way we Don't Talk About the War.

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August 2017

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