Work, Work, Work

Good morning, lovely humans.

It’s one of those days. You know – where you’re so tired, your eyes are feeling puffy, your eyelids making a valiant attempt to keep said eyes open. But your mind is saying – ‘No.’ Ah, these glorious days. Sitting on a most uncomfortable chair, your back and neck straining forward towards a computer screen that is far too bright, wanting nothing more than to stretch and give an almighty yawn – the loud ones that you only have the luxury of emitting in the safety of your own home. Ah, the joy. And in the back of your mind, Rihanna’s ‘Work, Work, Work’ song resonates. And in your state of utter fatigue, you become aware of how ridiculous it is that a pop star, worth millions upon millions of dollars, has the nerve to be singing on the subject of employment. Ah well. I suppose old Riri does work, in a way. Perhaps our definitions of work differ.

Rihanna’s philosophies are becoming irrelevant, as once more, a wave of exhaustion takes over your body. What you wouldn’t give to just lie flat out on a couch or bed, to just close your eyes and submit sweetly to the under-rated pleasure that is sleep. And as you fantasise about siesta-ing, you promise yourself that tonight will be different. Tonight, you will be in bed at 22:00 hours, latest. There will be no late-night Netflix-ing, there will be no midnight Whatsapps, there will be no reading. Just sleep. And as you convince yourself that this will happen, that tonight, you WILL have an early night, a voice at the back of your mind laughs softly and whispers – ‘Baby, it’s Thursday. Tomorrow is Friday. You may as well have a crazy night – you can recover during the weekend. Go out. Go wild’ And as one part of you nods in agreement with the rationale of this voice of temptation, the other part of you sighs in despair, for this internal dialogue occurs every single Thursday. And every Thursday, you ignore your body’s depleted sleep stores and opt for temptation. Sigh. Welcome to the life of a 21 year old, attempting to have both, financial security and a social life. Sigh.

Good day to you all. Stay awake.

The Tired One xxx

 

The “F-Word”: Why Social Politeness is Transparent

Excellent.

etherealnoire

fat girls

(Left to Right: Alyson Hannigan [Date Movie, 2006], Philomena Kwao, Essie Golden, Tess Holliday)

For the typical size 18 girl like myself, the summer months bring along the ever complicated dilemma: wear longer clothes that cover up “problem areas” but threaten to cause heat stroke, or throw caution to the wind and go for the shorts and tank top that show every jiggle and bump. Up until my senior year of high school, skirts and shorts were out of the question. The last thing I wanted was for everyone to see the bits of me that made me the most insecure about myself. It was a question of comfort. At least clothes left everything to the imagination; I would rather burn under the summer sun to please others than show everyone my chubby arms and legs.

And that’s when it hit me. It’s not like my body was a secret…

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