My motorcycle friend

A friend that I hadn't seen in over a year came over to see me today. The last time I had seen her must have been the same time last year after our exams.

She can over late afternoon on her motorcycle (it's huge as I repeatedly tell her) and we talked, and we made a chocolate cake, and we ate pizza. It was nice. I had missed her, and all the while I had been waiting for her to turn up I had been feeling all excited and happy that I would soon be seeing her again.

She's been out of the country you see, she's been studying in England. She tells me that she's rally enjoying it there so I'm absolutely delighted for her. I'm glad she's happy there.

I'm also very glad she came today. I've been feeling very lonely these past few days, so her company was very much appreciated. Especially since she is very good at making me laugh.

Cartoons

It's not a proper lazy day without cartoons. I've been watching cartoons in my pyjamas all day and the only thing missing is icecream or popcorn, but seeing as I still feel a bit ill, it's just as well I don't have any.

There's a particular joy in cartoons that you don't find on more "grown up" TV. The older you get the more serious you are supposed to be, and the more serious the things you watch are supposed to be as well.

Cartoons are fun, and happy (mostly. Obviously I'm talking about kid's cartoons here). There's nothing better to make you feel less heavy and a little more carefree.

So yeah. I don't regret today. I think I needed today.

Pyjama day

I have decided that I am not getting dressed today, instead I am going to stay in my pyjamas and in my bed watching movies. Preferably cartoons.

This was not my original plan, but what can I say? Life doesn't follow a plan it seems.

I was meant to go hang out with two friends today. We were supposed to go eat out, and then go swimming, only it's raining, and one of my two friends is sick. So our plans have been postponed until next week.

I'm not going to tell my mother. She's gone this weekend you see, along with my stepfather and my little sister. My brother and dad have gone for a week. They're in Augsburg for a race.

So I'm all by myself, alone in the house. I had told my mother that I was going to hang out with friends today, and that I was going to the cinema with a third friend tomorrow. She was glad because she doesn't want me to be too much by myself these days. Something about needing someone to make sure I'm looking after myself properly.

So I'm not going to tell her about today. I don't want to worry her. I do hope I get to go to the cinema tomorrow though. It would be nice to get out a bit.

In any case today is a pyjama day unless a surprise something happens, which, lets be honest here, is highly unlikely. Surprise somethings rarely happen to me.

Nausea

I've not been feeling well these past few days. And by "not well" I mean that I've been feeling physically ill, not sad or whatever the hell I'm usually like.

I've been feeling nauseous, just enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to properly qualify as ill. It's been especially bad whenever I try to sleep.

So yeah. That's not been fun.

What's making it worse is that I don't want to complain in case anyone thinks I'm being paranoid, or hypochondriac. And they would think that too.

I don't know. Maybe I am being a bit of a hypochondriac. Maybe I'm perfectly ok and it's all in my head. Then again maybe not.

I guess I'll have to wait and see.

A sidenote

I'm watching Sherlock Holmes (the one with Robert Downey Jr) and there's this one scene where Sherlock starts talking in french to this guy that I assume we're meant to believe to be french, hence the choice of language. Only the supposedly french man has a terrible accent and is clearly not french at all. Therefore my question is the following : why on earth are they speaking french?

Bedtime

For a while now my favourite part of the day has been the part where I climb into my bed to go to sleep, and my least favourite part is when I have to wake up, and get up.

All in all my bed has pretty much become my favourite place.

I'm pretty certain this is not a good thing. I mean I am aware of the fact that my mother is already getting increasingly worried about my lack of social life, and she is not alone is thinking maybe professional help could do be good.

Not that I'm against the idea of professional help. There's nothing wrong with it, it's just that it's never nice to realise that your family thinks that there might be a screw loose in your head.

That being said I don't think anyone who knows me would really be surprised. Or rather they would be surprised only that it took me so long to realise that not all was entirely normal in my way of avoiding interacting with large amounts of people. Or people in general really.

So I do spend a lot of my time alone, in my bedroom, on my bed reading or surfing the Internet (or more honestly looking up funny pictures of cats on Tumblr).

I love my bed. I feel safe and warm there, like no one can hurt me. A classic reaction to the big bad world really. After all, all children know that if they hid under the covers of their beds the monsters can't get them.

Running

I went running with a friend today, which is not something that I usually do to be perfectly honest.

I don't like running, or any other kind of sportsy thing where I actually make an effort to keep moving. Sports is not, and has never been fun for me. I hated sports at school, and I was always the last to be picked whenever we needed to be split into teams.

As you can imagine that did wonders for my self esteem.

In any case I always did my best to not do any sports ever. Not easy seeing as my dad is in fact a sports trainer. Yeah, he used to train me.

That was not enjoyable. Not because he was mean or anything, but because I felt like I could never really tell him how little I was enjoying the sport for fear of offending him, or making him sad.

I eventually managed to pluck up the courage to tell him I was quiting. But it did take me three years.

I really don't like sports. Correction : I don't like being the person doing the sport. I enjoy watching sports. Especially the Olympics, that is the best.

So you can imagine my surprise when I found myself running this afternoon with my friend.

It wasn't that bad, and in all honestly I think it would probably be good if I did this regularly. I just can't be bothered, you know?

But maybe she'll make me come with her again. We are, after all, going to be living together next year.