The Vicious Circle Of Laziness

I should have gone to the pub earlier. I'll tell you the reasons why. Despite telling myself that I wouldn't stay up all night while not at work, I did, and seeing as I am the dictionary definition of the 'L' word, I ended up going to sleep at 3am and sleeping for nearest makes no difference, 12 hours. The mates went to the pub at around that time, and seeing as Beddoe rang me when I had literally just woken up, I was still a bit grumpy and ignored his phone call. I "cba" to walk to the pub. (i. That's teen talk for "Can't be arsed" and ii. Father Mitten had stolen the car).

Because of my extreme laziness, I lazed about for a few hours before meaningfully getting up at a ridiculous 5pm. It is the worst attribute of man, being lazy. If you are clumsy, you can work on getting less so by simply concentrating. If you are a loud speaker, you can work on being more quiet. If you are lazy, you cannot work on being less lazy, because you can't be bothered, because you're too lazy to do so. FML. (More teen speak).

So, here I am, at 3.37am, with the alarm set for a very solidly early 9am, bloggling, because seeing as I am so lazy and unattracted by anything that isn't my bed, I am having to pay the price because I simply cannot sleep. My plan of going to sleep at a respectable 1am were ruined slightly by having some fun with Beddoe, (no homo), but I did manage to climb into bed at 1:50am. Nearly 2 hours on, after all the sleeping techniques in the world, (including counting sheep, dreaming of success and counting Welshmen), I have given up. I may go to sleep in a bit, or I may play the extreme version of the game I have played for the last 9 months and stay up and drink Red Bull by the barrel.

It's not as if I can do this either now, because, unlike all Sundays this season, I am resurrecting the refereeing career as of tomorrow afternoon. So I can't go straight to sleep after playing in the morning. I got a phone call this afternoon, asking me to fill in for an injured referee and thought, "Why not!". Now, I am regretting it, but I am looking forward to running around in black, none the less.

I mentioned earlier that Father Mitten had stolen the car and the reason why was quite funny. Earlier in the week, he had pointed out that one of my tyres was "illegal", and my chances of having a blowout, (Beddoe, please remove the childish smirk from your face at once!), were high. Basically, in short, if I didn't change the tyre, I would die. So, he went today to get a new one. The funny thing is, this car of mine has an engine that sometimes hasn't got any power in it at all, a gearbox that sounds like a shark eating a human leg when you change gear, a door that doesn't open properly, a door that doesn't lock properly, headlights that are as bright as the darkest night and a steering wheel that needs the muscles of Britain's Strongest Man 2010 to operate for the first mile of your journey before the fluid kicks in and, despite all of these problems, since I have owned this car, the one problem that Father Mitten has been OBSESSED with is that my tyres do not have the required 1.6mm tread on them. (And, breathe.)

"Did you know your front-left tyre needs changing"

"Your back-left tyre has rubber missing off of it.

"Your front-right tyre has a tread of 1.4mm and that's a fine and a 6-point penalty."

Really Dad, really? How good is a Police Officer if he, (or she - Don't want to be sexist now do we!), notices a deficit of 0.2mm on a moving car tyre? The Police in this county can't even stop a drugs raid in broad daylight so if they have the super-human ability to see my moving illegal tyres, I don't think my car is the worst of their problems. Deary, deary me.

Anyway. With that rant over, let's get back to business. Today, (or what was left of it), was OK despite my extreme laziness. I went to Ellie's for a good catch-up where we discussed... certain things... and no, she isn't Ellie Goulding! Beddoe then forced me at panda-point to take him to Tesco's for some drugs, (otherwise known as Sorbet), and then came home and dossed!

Music aswell, has been important lately. I have a unique taste in music I feel. Not many people have Jamie Woon, Will Smith, Black Sabbath, Black Eyed Peas, The Doors and James Blake in sequence on their Spotify playlist and if I listed all the artists/bands that were on my Spotify playlist, it would take up a whole post! (Sorry in advance!) But seriously, given the week I have had, which has been as rocky as a yacht trip in the middle of a stormy Atlantic, the music on my playlist has severely helped in calming me down from a dangerously depressing mood and harmoniously happy mood, in equal quantities. Music is a fantastic invention.

I'm completely wide awake. It's now 4:14am, I have to be awake in less than 5 hours and despite doing this all Summer for cricket, I am not looking forward to it. I am looking forward to the football, once I wake up. But it isn't cricket is it..

Summer needs to hurry up.

Night Night x
(I wish)

P.S. And if you are interested, I genuinely did start a long list of all the bands, but I am too lazy to complete it.