So, the beginning of my second year of visual diarying. I'm quite proud. I've decided that it's a worthwhile enough exercise that, if I possibly can, I should keep it up. I actually feel slightly bereft if I don't do it now, not to mention guilty at my lack of commitment to projects (although I'd say a year is a pretty good run for any project!)
Anyway, it's been a rainy, fairly unremarkable month. Prepare yourself for much unremarkableness.
I was quite smug about this, in that horrible way that fairly amateur graphic designers get when they think they've done something clever. HELLO 2014!
Seriously. Girls (and guys) should talk about periods more. They're natural and crazy and if you go into them with the right mindset, even kind of fun? (Ok, maybe not)
But anyway ladies. Mooncups. Get on it, yeah? Your vagina and the environment will thank you.
Normally going back to work after long holidays is horribly arduous and confusing and it takes about a week to remember what exactly it is your job consists of, but for some reason this time, I was spectacularly efficient. Even more so than on a normal day. I should have time off more often.
So something horrible happened to my ankles. Or more specifically, my heels.
While I am a massive hypochondriac regarding anything to do with my digestive system and many other areas of my body, for some reason when I started suffering agonising pain in my heels I was kind of like 'meh, whatever, POWER THROUGH'.
It was only when I physically couldn't walk home from work that I booked myself a doctors appointment. Apparently I have/had tendonitis. The doctor was pretty unhelpful...
…and said I should wear trainers. I don't own trainers. So I spent a depressing evening traipsing around Churchill Square (while suffering crippling heel pains) trying to find a pair of trainers that didn't make me look like an absolute idiot. Failed. Bought these. Discovered that, if anything, they made the pain EVEN WORSE. Returned them, went to the lovely folks at Shuropody and got some actual good advice, and bought some insoles that have made me mostly all better. YAY ORTHOTICS! Boo slowly deteriorating body.
I have no idea how conversation got onto this. But seriously. WHAT
And don't even get me started on the Squirrel King.
So I went to give blood like I have done several times before, but this time it just wouldn't work. The iron finger prick test was inconclusive, so they tried to get some blood from my arm to test, but NOTHING WOULD COME OUT. I normally don't look when they put the needle in, but it was taking so long I had a glance, and the guy was sort of waggling it around in there. Then he took it out and (with my permission) tried again. Still nothing. WEIRD. (And now they've banned me from coming back till July because they can't tell if I'm anaemic or not! I'm blatantly not. I've been eating SO MUCH KALE)
I really hate being an adult sometimes. Buying things should be fun. Buying fridges isn't fun. It's just money thrown into a boring pit of boring.
Finally got round to digging/tidying the garden. Discovered that actually, our vegetable growing efforts haven't been a complete failure, and we'd managed to grow one really good onion. I pulled it up and bought it in and then Alex got really annoyed with me, because apparently it's not an onion, it's a GIANT GARLIC, and it's not 'done'. He wants me to go and plant it again but I haven't because I want to eat it. But I'm not eating it because Alex will be annoyed with me. So it's slowly shrivelling on the kitchen side. I'm such a pro.
I drew this during a meeting. In my defence, the meeting was basically 15 minutes of two people debating what to call a thing, and other than saying "I agree with that person" there wasn't much more contribution I could make. Meetings are fun! (I'm not actually being sarcastic, I do quite enjoy meetings with my work colleagues.)
I feel sad for this tree though. Apparently one of the director's wives bought a load of plants for the office when they moved in four years ago, and this is the only thing to survive. I think I'm the only person who ever waters it, and even I only remember about once every couple of months. It leans forlornly towards this tiny window.
Falafels are my kryptonite. (Kryptonite just made superman really bloated and farty, right?)
Did a terrible drawing on the train. Spent the day in Bournemouth visiting a new building that the company of international colleges I work for might acquire. It was AMAZING. Some of the most wonderfully gaudy fireplaces I've even seen. Including this bad boy.
Some days I don't know what to draw.
Did another train drawing, determined to better my previous effort. This
time, train self portrait, in shiny black nighttime windows.
Another one of those 'self-loathing' days. Fortunately they don't come around too often, and as it turned out, (hopefully) no one was actually offended by my criticisms. I still felt like a dick though.
So Metronomy were great, but man. Is the whole 'talking at gigs' thing getting worse, or is it just me? I swear it didn't used to be like this. IF YOU WANT TO TALK, GO OUT TO THE BAR. IF THE BAR IS IN THE ROOM, GO OUTSIDE. Sorry Metronomy. I hope you weren't offended by all the chattering idiots. I was listening.
Any day I get to go on the top deck front seat of a bus is a better day than it would otherwise have been! Buses are a special treat these days, now I *ahem* cycle everywhere. *says the girl who hasn't been on her bike in over a month like a big bike nagging hypocrite*
So anyway. This year, as well as visual diarying, I spontaneously decided on January 1st that I would do this 'photo a day' malarkey that lots of people are doing. I haven't linked my Instagram to my Twitter or Facebook because I don't want to spam people with boring stuff, but if you're interested, as well as doing a drawing a day, I've managed a photo a day too. It's been fun.