Another Sunday, another selfie quiz.

I know I’ve been doing a lot of quizzes lately, and I make no apology for that. I’m tired. I’m grumpy. And I’m out of ideas.

Honestly, it was either a self-indulgent quiz or a rambling puddle of bullshit about me half-arsedly attempting yoga in the park the other day. I honestly tried to make it work, but it just wasn’t coming together. Long story short, a was heckled by a shirtless guy with a plastic bag of Hans Superdrys.

I’m actually surprised I posted anything today at all.

I’m far too tired for someone who spent their Saturday night watching Escape to the Country. I apparently had had a big week, because I didn’t even stay awake to see if the couple actually did buy the mystery house they seemed keen on (although this was partly because I didn’t want to go to bed disappointed in the likely case that the house hunters didn’t buy any property).

So yeah, maybe this is slack of me. Maybe I’m just being lazy for not coming up with a witty critique of society or being fun enough to have a graphic vomit story for you. But I’m too exhausted to be coherent right now, so tit bits of prompted prose is all I can muster up.

But in the spirit of Fathers’ Day, I’ll preface this week’s quiz entry with the immortal words of my dad, a man who goes by the name of Macca and gets more likes on Instagram than any selfie of mine ever could:

“Don’t be so bloody ungrateful. You’re too bloody we fed, yewse kids.”

Yeah, you git whatcha given.

I got these questions after searching “seven questions” in Google. I’ve adapted them from a list about questions you should apparently ask your employer at the end of a job interview. I have only used five of these questions, because two of the original questions were too tricky to transform from a professional perspective and apply to a narcissistic 20-something wearing pony pyjama pants. Five questions is probably all I can handle right now anyway. And, after all, there were five Spice Girls, so you have to take that into account.*

How do you celebrate accomplishments and achievements? I find a big serving of ribs is the way to go. It’s indulgent, but can easily by justified as healthy. It has no carbs. It’s packed with protein. Iron helps us play. It all works. Actually, I’ve been using meat as a treat for a little while now. Recently I came up with a new rule that any time I get my period, I get to take myself out of a nice steak dinner. You replace your iron you’ve lost, you get a ripper feed and you toast your own womanhood. It’s all the fun of celebrating your femininity while gnawing on bits of dead cow. Like, I enjoy being a woman. I enjoy not being a pregnant woman. And I enjoy slow-cooked beef. I feel like one day I may regret toasting to my empty womb, but that day is not today.

From your perspective, what does success look like? Not having to skip my sugar pills for six months so I can afford to fulfil my steak dinner rule.

What are your top priorities? Completing this post so I can get on with the rest of my Sunday.

“The rest of my Sunday” involves me going for a jog to the nearest Guzman and Gomez. My plan is to bolster my self-esteem by doing exercise, which will then make it easy to justify spending $17 on a single meal of Mexican food – because I worked hard and I deserved it. According to my app, the nearest location is just 1.8km away.

But, let’s be honest, I’ll probably end up ordering in or having cereal for dinner. I may be wearing a sports bra, but I am also currently wearing pyjama bottoms. 

What keeps you awake at night? For the most part, it’s sobering realisation that my meaningless life will one day come to an end. But there’s a security spotlight that keeps flashing on and off with the breeze that’s cheesing me right off. I’ve thought about taking it out with a slingshot from the shelter of my bedroom so the Body Corporate doesn’t see me taking justice into my own hands. But I don’t have the aim or the rubber bands to pull something like that off, so I’ve been using a sleeping mask.

But then the blackness of the sleeping mark reminds me of the eternal darkness that is waiting for my soul.

Maybe I should considering sipping hot milk before bed.

 Are there any shortcomings… that I could address now? I can think of many shortcomings that I SHOULD address now, but not a single one I COULD address now. I’m just too damn sleepy.

* You don’t really, but I did just base my title loosely around that flippant Spice Girls reference, so I guess it does have extra weight now.