Doomed! We’re Doomed!

So, the latest installment of the Huge Project O’Doom was nineteen pages long when I started editing it. It is now twenty-three pages long. HOW? Every time I finish a page I look down at the length-thiny and an extra page has been added on. I swear to God, I will be doing this forever, unless, of course I LOSE MY TINY MIND in the process. Yeah.

I would really, really like this HPOD to be over with. I’m so bored with endlessly refreshing my forums and blogs in my quest for distraction. And why are you people not updating your blogs more often, anyway? Am I supposed to entertain myself here? GOD.

As well as being bored rigid, I’m also slightly freaked out this week, reason being that I found out a couple of days ago that my little cousin (who lives in Canada) just got married. Now, my cousin is 26 now, but she’s still my little cousin, and last time I saw her in person she was thirteen, so this latest development is making me feel old. I’ve been noticing lately, though, that I totally AM old. The evidence:

  • Going out to collect the mail in the morning wearing only my dressing gown
  • My grubby, makeup-and-coffee-smeared dressing gown
  • Throwing on a white top to walk the dog in (because my little sundress, it would’ve got me lynched had I worn it to walk through The Ghetto), noticing that my green bra is totally visible through the white and not bothering to get changed.*
  • Buying Asda’s own brand hair conditioner rather than my usual, more expensive one, because who will be able to tell the difference?
  • Worrying about what the neighbours think of the garden
  • Going to Ikea. And the garden centre.
  • Walking past large groups of teenagers and attracting NO COMMENT from them at all.

Hell, soon I will be buying jeans with elasticated waists and saying, "I remember when this was all fields" on a regular basis. I’m scared. Hold me.

There is also a small amount of evidence of my still being young, though, such as:

  • Showing flagrant disregard for the accounting system Terry has set up. Terry is not speaking to me about this. Oops.
  • Putting all the fruit juice in the house into a glass with vodka and calling it a "cocktail". (Actually, Terry did this, but I drank it. Drank them, rather. Hic.)
  • Erm…

Yeah, I really need to pick my game up here. Also: finish the HPOD. Everything will be OK once I finish the HPOD…

*In my defense, I did cut my walk slightly short to come home and rectify this, because GOD, what was I thinking?