Sunday, 21 August 2011

On weekends off

I woke up this morning with a familiar Sunday feeling. A bit headachey. Unrested. But by god, it was actually just sinusy fun and games! Not my brain and liver being reduced to the SIZE OF ACTUAL RAISINS at all! "I might as well have gone out drinking my life away", thought I in my very best Eeyorish way, "given the fact that I felt hungover without even the benefit of having enjoyed the evening before" (I did, actually, but in a different way - I drew some owls and then went to bed at 9.40 p.m. to play Virtual City until my eyes bled).

However, this afternoon I'm beginning to see that a bit of the old sinus pain is in fact far preferable. I remain clear of thought and full of energy for monkeyshines. My Who's Who entry will list monkeyshines as my hobby.

My monkeyshine of choice recently has been sending messages. Google+, Twitter, email, instant messenger, Flickr mail, the actual post. All are fair game. I'm enjoying it. It allows me to be creative. Make pictures, if you will, without having to actually draw anything. What I am also enjoying is that other people seem to be enjoying it, too. Either that or I've discovered the most white-knuckle way possible to find out whether or not my friends are patient and tolerant people.

They are, of course. For much of the time they have to be. However, I still always hope that people would just be honest if I was annoying them. Obviously, it would make me a little bit sad. But you're always better off knowing in these cases. It allows you to modify your behaviour before you do any lasting damage. To paraphrase the episode of Peep Show where Jeremy's manager teaches Mark how to do the sex properly, I'd rather be told that I was incredibly annoying and deal with that fact than blithely continue to be annoying in a way that I wasn't even conscious of.

I like the way that even when I'm having a nice, quiet weekend, amusing myself and engaged in my beloved monkeyshines, I still have the mental capacity to berate myself internally for my myriad failings. It's what makes me a balanced, if potentially intolerable, human being.

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