The H-word...

I’m in a happy mood today. I was in a good mood yesterday. It’s highly unusual for me, being the forever depressed, tortured soul. My morbid outlook in life hasn’t changed, but I still feel *gasp* happy. The dreaded H-word.

I generally just stick my hand in the closet and pull out whatever my hand gets – mostly some ratty, but matching, pair of undergarments, a T-shirt and jeans. Brush my teeth, wash my face, slap some deo on and head to work. Nope, I don’t even use a toner, moisturizer or sunscreen lotion anymore. And yes, my eyebrows have united again and I can give Elvis a run for his money on the sideburns department. Must head to salon and defuzz myself soon. I’d probably lose a kilo or two after the process.

But I actually wore something besides a T-shirt today. And put make-up on. What am I turning into? The horror…

In other news, something kinda happened. I’m not sure if I should spill the beans yet, but it is about a guy. It feels good, flattering even, but it’s all a bit confusing. Due to my personal biases from the past. Many things are against him: I work with him, worse in my department, my shift. He’s Pakistani. Ok, before the whole racist thing comes up, let me say that I’ve seemed to date the rule rather the exception when it comes to Paki guys. The type that either want a good time, or want a good time but prefer to lie about it. And also the apparent helplessness in ‘marriage’ – they do what their parents want. Well, let’s just say I avoid them like the plague as much as possible, but I can’t seem to avoid getting into some form of a relationship with them. So yea, my workplace, Paki – not a good combo for me. Or my heart. But it feels so good to be noticed. And at the risk of sounding like a terrible person, I so crave the attention, being noticed.

People at work noticed me. Many compliments about looking good, whether a man is behind my sudden ‘emergence’, and even someone blurting out “You have hair!” (I generally tie my hair into a tight bun).