lust but not least

Do you ever get the feeling that life's running through your fingers like the sand?
Well, I do. At times I think the sand has turned into lava, killing bees or crappy slime, but this doesn't change things much. If not for the scars, burns and puking, I mean.

Anyway, time's running fast towards the end of the year, and just like every year, I start taking stock of my life and wishing I could fall asleep today and wake up on January 7th.
Not that I don't like Christmas.. I love choosing, buying and wrapping up presents, cooking for friends, having some time to sit in front of the fire eating oranges, chestnuts and panettone..
It's just that my melancholy becomes unbearable, the least thing moves me... you know, all that sort of things!
So I'm trying to avoid all this sticky feelings doing as many things as I can. And I'm quite good at that!
In the last week off work I succeded in:
- have some laundry done (don't you think that's easy.. you never saw the huge amount of carpets and stuff I must wash because of the cats...)
- start reading The House of Sleep, which I'm loving, and buy some other great books
- put some Christmas decoration in my flat - cuuuuuute!!!
- have some more Christmas shopping done
- dowload a cd I've helplessly looked for in the last 6 months

but, just to remember me that nobody's perfect, I also....
- spent tons of money on lingerie-shoes-clothes-books I truly couldn't afford (Carrie Bradshaw knows NOTHING about shopping... I mean, about going shopping with ridiculous wages like mine...)
- managed to get as sad and dramatic as a Bergman movie. Only a bit less artistic..
- lost the car keys and had the car forcefully opened by my holy mechanic (it goes without saying, this ruined some plans I had for a night out)
- skipped as many meals as I could (believe me folks, I do not need a diet..) cause I didn't feel like taking care of myself and maybe wanted to vanish in the air, don't know
- convinced myself that nobody will ever love me 'cause I'm as pleasant as a huge pimple on the nose. When you're a model. And you're allergic to camouflage make up.

Not too bad for one single week, uh?