I'm sleeping
And right in the middle of a good dream
When all at once I wake up
From something that keeps knockin' at my brain.
Before I go insane
I hold my pillow to my head
And spring up in my bed
Screaming out the words I dread:
"I think I love you!"
This morning
I woke up with this feeling
I didn't know how to deal with
And so I just decided to myself
I'd hide it to myself and never talk about it
And didn't I go and shout it
When you walked into the room.
"I think I love you!"
I think I love you.
So what am I so afraid of?
I'm afraid that I'm not sure of
A love there is no cure for.
I think I love you.
Isn't that what life is made of?
Though it worries me to say
That I've never felt this way.
wwwwhhhh
I don't know what I'm up against.
I don't know what it's all about.
I got so much to think about.
Hey, I think I love you.
So what am I so afraid of?
I'm afraid that I'm not sure of
A love there is no cure for.
I think I love you.
Isn't that what life is made of?
Though it worries me to say
That I've never felt this way.
Believe me,
You really don't have to worry.
I only want to make you happy
And if you say,
"Hey, go away," I will
But I think better still,
I'd better stay around and love you.
Do you think I have a case?
Let me ask you to your face:
Do you think you love me?
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
I think I love you.
Read more: http://artists.letssingit.com/david-cassidy-lyrics-i-think-i-love-you-2p1cx3p#ixzz2nIXVNmul
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Okay so if my life was a feel good movie, this is totally what I would have woken up to this morning, also if my life was a horror moive like oooh Scream 2 maybe also true. I didn't in fact wake up to any my life is a film music just the durrr durrrr durrr of my alarm clock... I do admittedly wish that I woke up and found out my life was a musical complete with epic soundtrack and like Milla Jovovich or Seven from star trek voyager was playing the lead (natch me) and well any doctor was playing hubby.(EVERY DAY) On the same note I did have a moment the other day when I wondered if this whole life thing was like the Truman Show and actually if I did get on a plane and travel for a long time I would hit a wall.... then I decided that I am just not that lucky and carried on bumbling around.
Wow I waffle way more than I realise huh? That being said you want to get all up in my head and see the stuff I don't waffle about, scrap that you sooooooooo don't I'd get viewed as a whole other person.
Nothing majorly eventful to report about the morning, except to say that I have added smelling everything before I put it on, having two showers of a morning and spraying myself with a mix of deodorant and febreeze before being around the general public.
As a social worker, which I try and avoid talking about because there are a lot of understandable rules about confidentiality and professionalism which if I want to keep my job I'm not allowed to break. However I will today without naming names or places tell you that I conducted a visit which as a Christmas O Phobe was a real eye opener. Generally I am able to visit people over this period by applying what the Doctor would describe as the perception filter... where there may be trees present and the like but if I don't acknowledge them then they are not present. This has worked for YEARS, until today. I watch a lot of American sitcoms and programmes and the like, and I have never in INKLAND actually witnessed anything with googly wavy arms..... until today. I pull up in full professional mode (non stinky and everything) to a house that has an ACTUAL blow up santa with wibbly wobbly arms blowing in the wind (if it was appropriate I would have taken a picture) and trust me when I say there is no perception filter than can remove that image from your brain. I then enter said property and its like every christmas thing (and also non christmas I'm still questioning the goblin thing) you can imagine that moves, speaks, sings and everything ALL at the same damn time. Trust me when I say it is very difficult to remain calm or serious and discuss life's problems when everytime you move the moose in the corner starts flailing it's arms and singing "merry moosemas" and the santa thing moves it's mouth like a satanic demon and every five minutes, what I assume to be a christmas cuckoo clock goes off. There was also a very uncomfortable moment with some mistletoe, in which I felt that this would be a serious breach of the social work code of conduct. All I can say is thank god I only have one Christmas visit left this year!
After the survival of this episode I then come home to find that mother (who considers herself technologically advanced) has discovered the joys of youtube thanks to the power of facebook (trust me when I find out who taught her this I WILL hunt you down and slap you) and is playing fleetwood mac at the top volume, dancing around the front front room and wailing "you can go your own way" at full blast. I had wondered if she had been at the vodka and then remembered that I drank that all last night. Mum said that I was a terrible example of her parenting since "apparently" I used to love this as a kid (there goes any street cred) and danced around the living room with her.... it was so bad I felt the need to save everyone else with this text:
I tried to save him.....
I recently aquired a chest freezer in the hope that this would make one of my 33 things comes true.... not the vegetarian one I did that already, but the being frugal one. Also as a place to store my many disastrous soups (see lettuce soup entry if not already up to date on this) and so I went to the fridge and since it is both December and Christmas all in the same month my cupboard was bare (insert sad smiley here). Which is a lie, because I like to exaggerate, but after a cull of less than springy onions, what I think may once have been a leek and several lettuces (I don't always like to repeat the same mistakes not even for hilarity and blogging opportunities) I was left with this...
Which could only really mean one thing SOUP.. which as we all know I am amazing at. In my enthusiasm at reattempting such a feat and possibly because of a radio two moment today I decided to go with big tits horse teeth chef (or Nigella for those who don't pay attention to such things). Normally I would pretend that this is because I admire her or something but actually it was because her recipe appeared to take the least amount of effort and/or washing up since we are out of dishwashing tablets. (I only mention this since mum has been banging on about this ALL day in between Mac sing a longs)
Also is it just me that is amused by the fact that butternut squash looks like a penis when it is whole and a penis and balls when in half. FINE I am 33 and a complete child...
This is my soup... it looks foul but I haven't actually gotten the courage to blend it because in a moment of non drunken merriment I decided that one teaspoon of chilli wasn't really enough so threw in 3 tablespoons worth instead...I'm relying on the deep freezing and only eating in the event of an actual apocalypse option...
Mum did intervene and make real food for dinner, i.e. bacon and cheese potato bake mmmmmmmmmm, but since I was so disappointed with the soup and my hubby was awol I decided to taunt him none the less...
Recently he has been questioning my vocabulary and I have to keep explaining that made up sounding words are TOTES real, but only if I say them, which I think given that "selfie" made it into the dictionary is perfectly acceptable. My most recent words being "slubbing" which is to slob around but posher, and as demonstrated above baKA.
There has been much colouring of late because I do not (unlike some people) have COPIC markers (again not sponsored but willing to be (should everyone go out and buy some) but do have some awesome stamps and a whole range of promarkers. While I am randomly advertising stuff I will say thanks to JULES (facebook / pink / gogglebox/ soul mate / too many categories to mention) that me and mum (in between soundtracks) spent a significant amount of time discussing the kind of punch boards we now need in our lifes, because now we know better an envelope maker is not enough... additionally mum insisted that since I am so influential I should write to the punch maker and demand either the opportunity to sell their products or demand some kind of commission. She looked pretty terrifying at this point so I just nodded and backed out of the room, which is often the best approach.
OOOH I totally forgot to mention boy child's woes yesterday and at the risk of being a terrible mother, I was amused when 12 year old boy child came home and said "mum do I need to change" foolishly he was wearing his school uniform so I said "yes get your uniform off" which as it turns out he didn't actually mean. He has a crush, on a girl, like a real one and not one off the telly. Apparently he told her he liked her and she said he wasn't her type. This is funny because in the role of reassuring parent I had to explain that a) girls are fickle b) even girls don't understand girls c) most girls do like boys to be clean (as in wash more regularly than boy child) and d) every other explanation of woman hood without doing the female species down or breaking boy child's belief system. This finally resulted in him telling me " I don't get it, she likes bad boys, but if I'm bad you guys ground me, so whats good about that?" I did my best not to giggle and did a whole (and it was epic) speech about not changing for anyone and blah blah which clearly didn't have any impact because he simply sighed and said "sometimes I wonder why life is worth living" this was considerably heart breaking since he is twelve and I feel like this everyday, but I told him when his time came the right girl would love him for all that he is. (Being a parent means having to lie often) Then he came home today full of the joys of being a pre-teen boy because he got an actual Christmas card from real life girl. Apparently not EVERYBODY hates him (It is not unlike living with Eeyore)
Hubby spent some time torturing the cat with the laser pen, you'd have thought he (cat not hunny) would have learnt by now but no, still in headbutting the window mode.
Mum decided that it was the kind of night in which she should make home made baileys.... this didn't lead to more singing, but a lot of frustration at both Lidl and Aldi for not making Whiskey Mac (which makes me think of my sisters boyfriend wearing a flasher mac) and having to bloody improvise. Please note this has not prevented her from giggling manically (outbreak of singing must be due before bedtime) or drinking the entire 2 litres she insisted on making.
Finally decided to make candles from all my pretty's but burnt my fingers and melted entire candle into carpet on first attempt because I forgot about the greaseproof paper part. Also that my heat gun and wax get hot pretty fast. So above pretty's which I will readdress tomorrow and make classy somehow.
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