Wednesday, April 6

"Oh Fuck We Are Wayne & Waynetta"

Imagine the scene. Your in your messyish house smoking a fag with your boyfriend of two years discussing your inability as a collective to be any damn good at life.The vision becomes clear in our head, we turn to each other with knowing & distraught looks on our faces.......... FUCK ....We ARE Wayne & Waynetta slob. Slobism is something I have enjoyed as a part time secret hobby for most of my life. Thing is Lazyness as a part time hobby can be attractive but only with the added appeal of being a bit cute -as a child and even just 3 years ago I was cute enough to pull off lazy Girl. But along with my waistline, my health and my habits cute has got lost somewhere amongst the comfyness. "CUTEEEEEE, CUTEEEEEE can you come find me please? I would get up and actually look for you but this couch is so comfy and I have Biscuits. " The realisation comes after a year of living in our own home- to our merit which we can be fairly houseproud about well by our standards anyway. It's more the lifestyle we have adopted. We LOVE food the both of us and the problems with our shared love of food and one another means we have a no shame policy when it comes to eating. Early on in our relationship when I was partial to getting high I realised Mr Hartney would not flutter an eyelash at my ability to consume a packet of biscuits or a pizza etc. This has left us with a rather beautiful love affair with comfort that has occured over the time span of our relationship. For the first time in my life I have stability, I have a wondeful man who loves me no matter what and I can make adult ( pahahahah) decisions and this has meant I dont often need to go out of my comfort zone ( literally my comfort zone is on my couch in the corner with my Dinosaur Blanky and my laptop eating optional). I wear my pyjamas most of the weekend, I have abandoned washing unless there are outsiders to impress, I wear less makeup, my previously stylish self now relies on clothes that are not to different from pyjamas- I havent worn trousers for 4 years they are all structured and shit makes me feel caged. Im a leggings dweller and my do I dwell. When I used to care about style and read magazines and get out of bed an hour and a half before any working day so I could preen and perfect I used to see people like the modern me and wonder why they have given up I mean how long does it take to shave your legs or put a bit of slap on? I am eternally sorry, I didnt understand. I thought that slob was a sign of unhapiness but I realise the more happy I get inside the less I care about the outside. I DONT CARE ABOUT FASHION I DONT CARE ABOUT BEING FAT I DONT CARE TOO MUCH THAT MY INSIDES ARE PROBABLY ALL MANGLED. ( I Kind of do tho...) I LIKE SMOKING I DONT WANT TO WEAR ANYTHING BUT MY PYJAMAS Problem is when you dont care for long enough you can be having a fag with your boyfriend at 3am and realise that abondaning yourself for comfy even when happy can actually be quite deppressing. I'm going to make myself better but my god we had fun being comfy for a bit didnt we?

1 comment:

Karen McMillan said...

"but my god we had fun being comfy for a bit didnt we?"

I love that line, and yes we sure did!

Really entertaining read and much I can relate to- I too can destroy a packet of biscuits and get most upset and aggressive if Spence has had more than his quota of Jaffas!