Because I'm a money-grabbing workaholic I didn't end up going out for drinks the other night. Ooo, the sticky little fingers of capitalism!
Really it has more to do with my inability to say "no, I'm busy."
Must work on this with diligence. I'm much better than I used to be. Not working 55 hr weeks anymore is an excellent start.
Seriously though, all work and no play makes Ginger a very dull girl (as they say). I feel dull already most of the time so I don't need to be adding to that by never seeing my friends or doing anything relaxing for myself.
I fall into obession really easily. Well, perhaps obession is too strong a word. But just as an example, when I was younger and learning to cook, I discovered that I was an excellent omlette maker. So I ate them every meal for about three weeks!
Last year, my flatmate taught me to knit, and I found myself sitting up until sunrise making scarves.
So I do it with work too. Say yes to every shift because I love my job (potential for burn out very high). I must learn pace, and the gentle art of saying "no" without feeling like I have to have some huge excuse, like someone died and I have to go to their funeral.
In other news, it's my birthday on Sunday. Hooray for me! I am not, and I repeat not, going to have a stupid little Couch Crisis like I usually do on my birthday.
A Couch Crisis goes something like this: "oh my god! I'm twenty-whatever and I don't even own a couch!" Followed by wondering if I should also be married, have a house/shares/2.5 children by now. It's dumb. Brain space should be used for good instead of evil!
Good like "hey! I've been on this planet for twenty-eight years; I've got some great friends, I'm reasonably happy and I can eat nachos whenever I like. Aren't I lucky?"
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