Anyway today I went to see how much it would cost to get Botox. Not that much, but once you do one thing, everything else looks crappy, so then you have to do something about the thing next door, and so on and so forth, until before you know it you’re an elixir of youth junkie unable to cope with the normal ageing process. To botox or not to botox???
Monthly Archives: October 2007
Every now and again I do something that covers me in shame and makes me wonder if actually it’d be better to be dead. Only luckily for me, just wishing I wasn’t here is significantly different from doing anything about it. And at those times life just seems too awful, and I just seem too awful…
The thing was, we rented a pony for my daughter, and it was a right pain in the arse of a pony – it bucked her off when she got on it, it refused to be led, ridden or driven, and it occasionally showed a tendency to kick – though it never actually bit, which is something. Otherwise it was a lovely little beast, quite good natured actually. So we tried and tried to train it into better ways, but failed – mainly because I know fuck all about horses no doubt. Meanwhile everyone kept saying it was getting too fat, and to exercise it, or lock it up overnight – one or the other. We tried to exercise it and it said no, so we locked it up. Anyway, one fateful day, I went to unlock it, and on the way back my car broke down. So I had to get a new car, and so on and so forth (I had various minor illnesses as well), I couldn’t be bothered getting up at the crack of dawn to drag the pony off to its yard (I was kind of hoping the owner would take it away, as we’d told her we couldn’t handle it and she’d said she would) and a week and a half went by, and suddenly I get a message from the owner – you cruel, awful person, I warned you what would happen, and now that pony has bloat! She took the pony away to her house and tended to it – I apologised (a lot) for neglecting it, and felt like the worst shit in the world. I can’t decide whether it’s actually worse to feel like a shit, or to know somebody else thinks you’re a shit. I think probably the latter. I remember feeling like a shit when I dumped various lovers – but then only they knew how mean I’d been, so I didn’t have to feel too bad, for too long. This feels worse. I had a boyfriend once who absolutely hated to be shamed – he’d participate in all sorts of vices, as long as no one suspected, but if someone did, he’d just about die of embarrassment. Are we all like that? Guess so.