tatjna (tatjna) wrote,


I went back to sleep after the alarm went off. I guess for most people this would spell "Oh Noes!" but for me, it was "Yay! Whee!" For the last few weeks I've been waking up before the alarm and being unable to go back to sleep, and that's one of the signs I look for that I'm sliding into depression. On Sunday, I made a pact with myself that if it continued through this week, along with the other sign that'd popped up (forgetting to eat unless reminded), I'd go to the doctor.

So last night when I got home and stuffed my face with red meat and ice cream (not together), then slept through my alarm to wake up to sunshine streaming in, it was cause for a joyous leap. Which always looks dignified in pyjamas, and surprises the dogs.

I also woke up with something akin to enthusiasm for going to lectures. And to cap it all off, NO STOCKINGS! And I'm not cold.

I'm told olives are an acquired taste. I really don't like them. I can eat about half of one with a mouthful of something else, but any more than that and the salty weirdness makes me want to gag.

I understand this puts me in the teeny tiny minority of plebeians who haven't acquired the taste, and don't appreciate the Glorious Olive for its subtle and delectable flavours of sumptuous luxury. But, I've tried on and off since I was around 20 (that's a long time, batman), around once every couple of months, to start liking them. And it hasn't happened.

When I was a kid, I didn't like coffee, liver, broccoli, cheese or stewed meat. As I've got older, I've acquired the taste for all of these, and I'm now one of those weirdos that will eat broccoli raw because it's yummier that way. But, still no olives. Or liver. But that's different - why eat offal when you can have steak - and a lot more people share my distaste for liver.

Apparently the dislike of coriander is genetic. I'm wondering if the olive thing is the same. Anyone know?

Today - short green floaty skirt, black boatneck top, stompy boots and no stockings. Did I mention the no stockings?

No stockings make me happy. In the immortal words of Maxi Jazz:

Nights out with no fights
Parking with no lights
Bare legs, no tights
Love at first sight.

Make of that what you will.
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