Krusty's parents were here last week to celebrate the arrival of the year of the tiger with us (as well as the coldest weather we've had in two years...), but that's not what tired me. We did a few touristy things, but were kept in the flat a lot by the rain/freeze/fog, so I happened to relax a lot.
We also followed some of the "rules" of the new year celebrations, but they are hardly strenuous: no crying (or you'll be crying all year – I failed this one by watching "My Sister's Keeper", a film about a family dealing with their leucemic daughter/sister... probably not on the ideal pregnancy curriculum...); no cleaning (or you'll sweep away the good luck); and even no shampooing (although I am not sure I held out for long enough, I think you're supposed to avoid washing away the good luck for at least five days). Krusty even followed the no hair cutting rule – apparently if you cut your hair or nails during Chinese New Year, since these were inherited from your parents, you'll be cutting their life short.
Anyway, not exactly stressful tasks...
No, today, the first day actually without any activities, has been the most tiring of all. First I went to the cinema, and as I arrived late, I fumbled around in the dark to notice that someone else was in my seat. A couple of teenagers who looked like they were on a date. Fair enough, I thought, and found another empty seat instead.
But then, during the film, I heard the girl whisper to the boy, "look at the girl next to me" (that was me), "she is so gay, do you know how I know?" and then went on to explain to her boyfriend how my shoes and the way I was watching the film was a sign of my homosexuality. No comments on the fact that I am six months pregnant... So I mustered up all of my energy not to say anything, as the last thing I wanted was an argument with a couple of hormonal teenagers...
Then I went to the toilet, and proceeded to use my energy on not screaming at every person in the queue – the one chewing gum in my ear with her mouth open, the one trying to push me faster along (as if that made any difference to the speed the girls in the cabins were going at), and the one who walked past the entire queue and took first place while no one reacted. Not to mention the one who left the cabin as I noticed she hadn't flushed or even bothered to aim at the bowl...
It's my fault I guess – I had to use the toilet near the cinema because this morning, after sleepwalking to the frozen box that is our bathroom, not only did I miss the seat as I sat down (therefore falling next to the toilet... oh the embarrassment), but then, as I flushed, I actually broke the handle. I'm not sure if it's because it was too cold, or if I did something wrong, but now we are sans flush, and I am just too tired to even worry about it.
To top it all off, a quick visit to the rooftop to see if the hooligans that were screaming up there last night had tidied up after themselves has revealed a load of empty cans and two pools of vomit, which a flu-ridden is Krusty is having to hose down as I type.
Somehow going back to work on Monday is looking pretty good right now...
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