Ho hum.

Surely, Nick, you approve of THIS little furry thing? It would appear he has the same taste in art...smutty devil.

1) I have eaten three brownies and I am about to be sick.

2) SNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!

That is all.

A wee. Yes. Finally.
Money. Yes. Tomorrow. First pay since 20th December. That's just cruel.
Fish that survive. Still going strong. Have had a little bit of fry food. Veh veh cute.
A tan. No. How silly.
A right proper *censored* No, Juzzzy, this wasn't a shit, this was a shag. Unacquired.
A clue. Overrated, apparently. Fair enough.
Backache cure. Yes, it's called not moving, and painkillers.
A kip. Just give me 20 minutes or so and I'll have a long one...
Green and Blacks chocolate. Any kind. The mint kind. It was Good.
Cheese and onion crisps. Posh ones. Consumed, one large bag of. Now feel sick and cruddy.
A bath. Nah. Get too wet.
Nice shoes. No.
A haircut. No.
New hair colour. NO.
To see Sweeney Todd again. I frickin wish. GAH *quiver*
Sprite. Vimto!
Motivation. Psh.
Chicken Madras. Chicken Bhuna. Near enough.

To add to list:

A small wooden log containing carrot and millseed. Not for me.
Powdered food. Not for me.
Cranberry and seed sticks. Not for me.
A bite from an ungrateful rodent. Totally intended for me.
Oldest bestest friend from Greenwich coming up on Friday and Saturday. This is all mine and I am going to savour every moment.

A wee.
Money.
Fish that survive.
A tan.
A right proper
A clue.
Backache cure.
A kip.
Green and Blacks chocolate. Any kind.
Cheese and onion crisps. Posh ones.
A bath.
Nice shoes.
A haircut.
New hair colour.
To see Sweeney Todd again.
Sprite.
Motivation.
Chicken Madras.

This list is by no means exhaustive.

BABY FISH!

GRANDMA!

ME!

I AM ONE!

Oh my god they are so cute. I hope they don't ALL die. They all look like a '!'.

My focus is now on them. I'm not thinking about anything else at all.

Nothing about work, which is so unbareable in its unfairness and ridiculousness that I am very much on the verge of handing my notice in.

Nothing about the flat, which I no longer feel is my home.

Nothing about anybody that upsets me.

(To combine these three factors - handing my notice in and moving home looks very tempting at the moment.)

Time to think fish. Think ammonia tests, feeding times, wate changes, makeshift filters, ph matching, and very still water so that they don't end up with twisted backs.

Yes, I'm a geek, but fucking get over it everyone, I have.

Bzzz.
"Hi, where are you?"
"In my room! Where I have been since I got in at just gone five, my light is on, the TV is on rather loud, I've been walking around on the very creaky floor - you can't NOT have noticed, surely?"

Nice to feel special.

moar funny pictures

Not a photo of one of mine - they're too dang small - but when I sit the tank on a piece of white paper I see:

*crosses fingers and toes*

Slow monday morning, in agony with my back and arse and back of thighs (although the latter are now going numb, which while bringing relief is also kinda worrying). Anyway. Meeeeme.

Now: Monday 10.16am

48 Hours Ago: Asleeeeep.

36 Hours Ago: Watching That Mitchell and Webb, Look on duhvuhduh.

24 Hours Ago: Asleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepish, really needed a wee though.

18 Hours Ago: Sat drinking cold but very coconut-ty hot chocolate and thinking about how much my back hurts and really wishing I wasn't sat in a cold metal chair because of how much my back hurts.

12 Hours Ago: Sat on my bed thinking about how much my back hurts and really wishing I was asleep because of how much my back hurts.

6 Hours Ago: Wide awake, thinking "I am awake, hmph."

3 Hours Ago: Really hoping that it wasn't actually 7.25am because my back still really, really hurts.

2 Hours Ago: Thinking I should probably set off for work now as it is going to be a long and painful walk.

1 Hour Ago: Kneading my numb arse.

Now: Scanning through the list of men that have applied for hardship money to see which of them that it is rumoured 'gets the full amount and then goes on holiday'. Pissed off with them. Can't figure out who it can be.

1 Hour from now: Hunting out the biscuit tin.

2 Hours from now: Eating lunch and bewailing its crapness and no doubt my back's crapness.

3 Hours from now: Debating doing some work today.

6 Hours from now: Thinking 'Yessssss, half 4'.

12 Hours from now: Pyjamaising, possibly have a hamster on my head.

18 Hours from now: Half 4am...if very lucky, asleep, or being woken up as usual.

24 Hours from now: Feeling a bit like a groundhogged Bill Murray.

36 Hours from now: Pyjamaising, possibly have a hamster on my head, possibly excited about baby fish, possibly debating pouring fish eggs away.

48 Hours from now: Likely writing an awful lot of letters and paying money to people who likely don't deserve a penny.

moar funny pictures

Please somebody tell me why it is fair that I can be fine all morning and then half way through a shower - OW. Back seizes up. Cold, wet, very naked, can't move. What did I do? What movement displeased you, Back? Not fair! OW!

It has taken me two hours to get dressed and attempt something with my hair. At 2pm is a planned pet shop trip. I do hope V will help me hobble big bags of sawdust and new tanks can be heavy!

Whilst on the floor of my bedroom (any position to get comfy) I decided to check out my little incubator lots of eggs coveed in fungus (booooo, but to be expected) so I whipped these out with a little pipette and I estimate I have 40(ish) healthy(ish) eggs. None may hatch, but I'm trying my best nonetheless.

Furthermore, after watching the adult fish for about half an hour last night, I can conclude:

Maddy is definitely a girl.
Alan is definitely a girl.
Juliet is definitely a boy.

*sigh* lesbian gerbils, sexually-confused goldfish...

If they hatch that is...

Is it the minnows that are supposedly rampant 24/7 and always popping them out? No. No no. The bloody goldfish have been at it. Not a sight I expected to see this morning, I tell thee. "Never mind", I thought, "they won't be fertilised, totally the wrong conditions, I haven't set the tank up for good breeding conditions, pleasedon'tbefertilisedohcrap. Black dots."

Cue lots of swirling of the water and scooping with the net into a little tank. I've always said that if my fish ever laid eggs I would leave them to be eaten. However, I can't not give them a chance. It's unlikely they will hatch though, which will be a relief.

The adults are sulking in a bucket. I am beyond cross with them.

Just like my loins whilst watching this...

So did they quiver throughout this...

Going shopping in a cinema is likely prohibited, unfortunately.

Row told me to go for a walk and get some fresh air. She coupled this with a stern look. I did not dare argue.

I walked. I returned with feesh. Five White Cloud Mountain Minnows (which are supposed to look like this, seeing as I can't get very good pictures of them). Forgive me for the atrocious quality of pictures. The camera was a little old fashioned when I got it three years ago. I need not point out either that fish move.

Clicky to make biggy if you wishy.

So this is the new tank set-up I have in my bedroom. Only the plants on the driftwood are real. They are still wee.

The new feesh are very very small.

Underneath that rock is the camera-shy and rather insolent hillstream loach that had moments before been larking about in the current and flicking up all the gravel in glee, until he saw the camera.

And in the tank in the other room, which is bigger than it looks here, and newly barebottom:

My darling Juliet who is so pretty. I haven't done her justice.

The mahoosive Maddy who looks much better than this really but she wouldn't keep STILL!

Alan likes to think himself boss. Perhaps I shall call him Alan Sugar now.

Feesh feesh feesh.

No complaints, please, I did say who it is for.

HE HAS SUM CHEEZS!

I woke up to a Pit Day. I don't like these. I can't face getting out of bed, let alone opening the front door.

I have emailed my boss to tell her about why I sometimes need a random day off. There are only so many sore throats and dodgy takeaways a person can have (i.e. none) before you are labelled as a skiver. I was quite honest with her about various things. I feel a bit better for telling someone actually. Although she hasn't replied yet...I hope she does before I go in tomorrow.

Anyway, I'm going to tryand transform the day from a Pit Day to a Duvet Day.
I will make myself go have a shower, then I will put clean pyjamas on (is there anything better? Well, yes actually, clean sheets, but that's a bi-annual event in itself), then I will put away the clothes that are EVERYWHERE, install the new fish tank light in my room, get back into bed, and try to ignore the paranoid and anxious feelings that generally pervade Pit Days by watching a rubbish film. Maybe even BBC2 will provide this for me, thus avoiding having to make any unnecessary choices. Or, I may watch Big. For sustinence, I will have toast. Lots of it.

Of course I may just go back to sleep for the day, which is by far the best coping method ever invented.

Stop me crying, stop me crying, STOP ME CRYING AT WORK.

Unhappy, much.

I was on time for work again. That is three mornings in a row. I mean, seriously, good gracious me.

And the reason?

My ever useful non-ticking, non-ringing alarm clock.

It stopped at 8.50pm last night. I didn't notice. First time I looked at it this morning, I thought I had ten minutes to get to work, shat myself, and ran out the house. Not so. A leisurely twenty minute stroll later, and here I am, on time once more.

Thank you, my chrome, silent friend.

Heath Ledger dead? But...well, just 'huh'. What a shame. Rather fit. Made a good cowboy.

But, y'know, don't sit in your apartment taking drugs, people, it's just asking for trouble.

On time for work again, due to the alarm clock that I will not allow to go off. At about 7am I realised it had stopped ticking, so got up to investigate. Nobody told me you actually have to wind these things. Tsh.

The student who shouted at me on the phone yesterday came in and started shouting some more. I went to get my boss from the other room and said, in a not so hushed tone, "You go and speak to her, before she gets going into a full tantrum, I'll only start bellowing back". "Hm, yes" she said. Charming, she's supposed to tell me I'm nothing but decorum and politeness!

The afternoon was slow. I spent much of it playing Fish Tycoon. I'm considering buying it. You can keep your Wiis, it's all about the fish breeding.

When I got home, all the lights were on. I simply didn't have the energy to say anything, so just turned them off with a sigh. And locked the front door. Sigh. I felt terrible on the way home, I was having what I can only describe as hot chills. Really shaky and wibbly. To solve this, I sat down and drank half a carton of pineapple juice. Then I just felt pineapply-sick.

I must be feeling better as I've since consumed a chicken and bacon pizza (d i v i n e) and an entire packet of jaffa cakes.

On reflection, this has not made me feel better.

Another riveting day.

Best watch Top Gear and go to bed.

Zzzz.

I deleted all the photos on my digital camera. All of Steph, primarily our visit to Edinburgh zoo and castle on 14/2/2005. Actual genuine smiles (unlike six months later). Too long ago to hang onto them anymore. I was forgetting what she looked like. The actual defining features were all blurring together. I'm kind of glad I remember again. Also, kind of not.

On the other memory cards were pictures from graduating, 13 July 2006, the last time I used the camera. Found a nice one of me and Nanna that I might give to her for her birthday - coincidentally, 14/2/2008.

Work was particularly rubbish. A woman that we bent over backwards for before Christmas, essentially giving her just over £1500 to pay for her car to be repaired, rang and had a go at me about the money she recieved meaning she no longer got Housing Benefit. This was all my fault. I am stupid, incompetant, clueless, and a fat load of good to anyone. Wrong person to get on the end of the phone love, I'm afraid. Raise your voice to me, I will raise mine right back at you. Unfortunately, she slammed the phone down on me, so I was denied that pleasure.
Pissed me off for the rest of the day though.

I've filled in an aplication for a Masters in Manchester. Met - eugh. Working in a uni gives you uni snobbery!) Just waiting on a few references and I'll send that off.

Spoke to the friend who lives in Greenwich last night. She suggested that because I'm so unhappy living up here now maybe I could go and live in London for a year, with her. I asked her how she might feel about Manchester. She thought that was a good idea too. We'll talk about it more over the weekend I think, and we may both start job hunting. I have enough in savings to see me through a few months rent if I'm not successful getting a job that quickly. (I'm talking like I'm going in a few weeks. Easter is more realistic.)She is my oldest friend - 16 years, which is a long time when you're 23 - and furthermore, she keeps fish too, and turns lights off when she leaves a room, and best of all, she locks the front door. These things would make me happy.

And finally, in other news: I was one minute early for work this morning. I usually arrive about 9.15am. This is due to me buying a new alarm clock. However, it is a wind up, proper hammer-hitting-two-bells alarm clock, and as a result:

a) it ticks 4 times per second REALLY loudly, and keeps me awake all night (usually making me tap my tongue bar against my lip or teeth in time to it, singing The Elephant March from The Jungle Book in my head, as it is the only song that seems to fit with the ticking. This gets tedious.)

b) it has such a loud alarm - so, so loud - that I'm terrified of it. I got up early so that I could set it to 'Off' and not have it wake me up.

c) it has no snooze button, and no power source.

Therefore, effective for all the wrong reasons.

I am buying eight new fish this week. I think I'll find myself watching them an awful lot over the following days. I feel calmest in my room. Apart from when I notice the ticking. And the hall light shining under my door.

Night night.

Oh, pissing myself too. Bottoms up! *clink*

Red wine: check.

Minstrels: check.

Peep Show (the lovely lovely Robert Webb): check.

Cleaned out for the first time in a month, thus bit pongy gerbil tank: check.

Yet to do:

Fathom out why all of my clothes are not in my wardrobe, but are actually in a pile right in front of it, with the door open. Who put them there? Why?

Actually put some fish in the fishless fishtank full of water.

Take washed clothes out of machine that washes clothes before they stink and need washing.

Clean out the other stinky rodent. Actually...go check stinky rodent is alive.

Move off the bed for the first time in about 12 hours.

Hey, hey, it's groundhog day!

NO? K DEN.

Danke, NotBob.

3 Things That Make Me Happy
My fish, and looking after them, trying to make them happy fish, and fish forums...*geek*
A nap that has no repercussions i.e. 'Shit, I'm late' or 'Eugh I slept with my contact lenses in/jeans on/glasses cutting into face'.
People who listen to me.

3 Things That Make Me Angry
Lights being left on for no reason and having to pay for it.
People who say "They're just fish". No, they're actually a hobby I'm good at and interested in, and yes they do need a filter, and yes I do need to clean them out this often. Would you let your precious dogs and cats sleep in a basket full of shit? No? Well then, shut up.
I get angry with myself for not having gumption.

3 Things That I Do Well
Fish.
Alphabetise.
Nap.

3 Things That I Don't Do Well
Getting up while it is still dark. I don't think I even wake up to turn my alarm off, just can't wake up.
Cope with baggage.
Keep my room habitable.

3 Things That I Love To Eat
CURRY.
Chocolate raisins.
Roast potatoes.

3 Things That I Hate To Eat
Really proper fishy fish, like mackerel or trout.
Anything found in a party sized 'selection of dips' tray (don't make things deliberately cold and soggy!)
Any vegetable matter.

3 of my Favorite Movies
The 'Burbs.
A Life Less Ordinary.
Alice in Wonderland.

3 Things I Want To Do
Go to Canada for a long holiday.
Have a well paying job that I can, for the most part, forget about once at home.
Pat an elephant.

3 Things I Never Want To Do Again
Freak out when B gets with somebody else in front of me and abandon her in a club at 2am on Christmas eve. Humiliating.
Scratchyscratch.
Turn the hall and bathroom lights off for somebody else. (I can dream can't I?)

Firstly: that was a damn good curry.

Right, that's the important stuff out of the way.

The main headline tonight is that Soy appears to have a phantom pregancy thang going on, much like the kind favoured by rabbits (except I'm not pulling my chest fur out and building a nest - yet). After further deliberation on the matter I can only presume it is a sympathy phantom pregnancy that has developed through sharing an office with an overtly pregnant lady. I've been sick on two mornings this week, and had to fight it back down on the other three mornings or risk throwing up in the street. Come midday, however, I'm fine.

Cue ridiculous conversation betwixt myself and a Boots Shop-Keep:

Me: This may seem a little odd, but I don't want to bother a doctor. For the past week I've been really nausous in the mornings and thrown up twice -

BSK: Aaahhhh...!

Me: Do you have any idea what could cause this?

BSK: Aaahhhh...!

Me: *??!*

BSK: You're probably pregnant!

Me: I'm not pregnant.

BSK: You sound like you probably are. I can do a pregnancy test if you like.

Me: I'm not pregnant. I can see why you may think that, but I'm not. That's why I'm confused.

BSK: *knowing look* Are you sure you're not? Haven't got your dates wrong?

Me (wants to say): Oh yes, that's right, there was that night of wild sex I had about 6 weeks ago,I had completely forgotten about that(!) No, bintfeatures, I am not pregnant. By repeating that I am pregnant, you are actually implying that I am somehow of Holy Blood and that history is being made as we speak. I am actually carrying the second Messiah, right here, in Hull! So sorry for wasting your time!

Me (merely says): *knowingly irritated look* I know that I...am...NOT...pregnant. Which is why I am confused as to what is causing this. Any other ideas?

BSK: Nope.

Good job though, really. Glug.

11.55am, of course:

Magical self-replenshing bowl of:

Tank containing two of:

Really, really comfy one of these, with the very same crisp white sheets (teddy optional):

A diet consisting entirely of this without a single repercussion:

A bloody holiday:

To my left: a glass bottle of red.
To my right: a bag of salt and balsamic vinegar kettle chips.
To my further right: a tube of jaffa cakes.
To my further left: fudge, a variety of.
In front of me: two gerbils doing battle over a toilet roll.
Also in front of me: Super Hans in his natural splendid state - sleeping.
In my eyes: 'Shallow Seas' episode of Planet Earth.
In my ears: Sir David A talking about fish and fish related activities in his eager, calming tones.
Furthermore: my room is just the right temperature.

I should be very, very happy. Or, at the very least, not unhappy.

However, if I go outside my room, I will find 1437* lightbulbs and TVs greedily gulping down the recently-risen-in-price electricty. These rooms will no doubt be devoid of all life that requires light and mindless viewing, but they will be switched on nonetheless.

The front door is probably unlocked too.

There is also a very good chance that a Petri dish containing Crap has been left open somewhere and it has escaped and started colonising in the kitchen.

These things do not make me happy.

*breathes deeply and takes a larger gulp than is really necessary*.

*figures may be exaggerated for demonstrative purposes. A more likely figure is 5. Still too high.

I'm not supposed to be letting myself on here at all during the day! I just completely forgot!

Not addicted, honest.

That and I just love you all too much to deprive you of myself any longer. Ha!

I despise Wednesdays. They are easily the worst day of the week for me.

This one began particularly badly as it started with inexplicable vomiting as soon as I got up this morning. I also felt really, really, really down and teary. Not good.

Yesterday also started with inexplicable vomiting.

Unlike yesterday, I decided to take today off. I knew it wouldn't make any difference whether I was at work or not, as as overdose of M&Ms (aka Soy's Happy Pills that make me hyper) yesterday meant that I got about a weeks worth of work done in about 12 minutes. I was possibly going to be in London too, but as my boss is better, she has gone to the very swanky hotel instead. Probably a good thing, I don't think I'm a very important-conferencey-event person. I'm a giggle-at-the-back-and-doodle person.

Anyway, I have not yet come up with a reason for the vomiting - thus making it, as stated previously, inexplicable - but I do hope it doesn't happen tomorrow morning, as it is a rather miserable way to begin the day.

Not a wasted day though. I've got a to-do list that is three pages long, and I have been able to scribble off three things today (although not very important things, the little things add up though).

I finally have water in the new fish tank in my bedroom, and the black lining paper and ferns that I bought on eBay yesterday actually arrived today, so it was kinda lucky I felt so miserable this morning. I passed a pleasant half an hour attaching the plant roots to bits of driftwood and putting one in the goldfish tank and one in the new tank. It's all looking rather lovely. Just need to get new light strips for both tanks, then the goldfish will be done (until I get rid of them in the spring, lar) and the new tank will be cycling away for a week or so until I can get my new tropical fishies. Just a few pretty ones that will look really good against the black background and black gravel.

Fish make me happy. Can you tell?

I'm going to sit and watching the Planet Earth boxset that Ex got me for Christmas 2006. I hadn't even taken the cellophane off. Guess I'm pretty much over her comepletely. *Allows self a smile*.

That's my allowed hour on the internet up.

*checks in*

While debating whether or not it is acceptable to sit drinking red wine from the bottle, due to being too comfy to go and get a glass, I have discovered that I have in fact drank an awful lot of it via this method of transfer already.

I think I could get used to this.

This week is just going to be shit.

*checks out*

Taking a wee break from here and the net in general. I spend too much time on it instead of doing anything produtive, like tidying my room, looking after the pets, sleeping, setting up the new fish tank (la la la), applying for new jobs, applying for MAs I'm just presuming I will be starting in September, showering, etc, etc.

I imagine I'll still catch up on some people's blogs while I'm at work, though, so don't talk about me behind my back, ya bastids.

x

This is, quite frankly, cruel. I can have none of the people on my Hot list, and I don't like reminding myself of it. Plus, I can't possibly choose just ONE person. I'm also ridiculously deprived in certain areas *ahem*. No wonder I do so much shopping.

One-Night Stand:
Daniel Craig. Preferably in a tux. Or just topless. Or naked.
Jolie. She's have to revert to her previous bad girl form though, not bring the poster-family along and worry about babysitters. She could bring Brad though. He can watch. Or not. Hmm.

Love Affair:
Johnny Depp. Johnny Depp. Johnny Depp. Seven! SEVEN! SEVEN! Seven. (I hope people get that, else I'll look deranged.)
He'd love dressing up as Cap'n Jack, of course, because he'd have such an appreciative audience. Mmm. Smelly and rude pirate Johnny.

Marital Partner:
Woss. Funny, and hot.
Or Mike Barnes from Hollyoaks, he's have to stay in character all the time though, which would be problematic - for him, anyway.
Or, if she wasn't already married, Jessica Hynes. Hottttt-ah.

One To Make You Turn:
Into what, exactly? What is the opposite of my screwed up likes and dislikes as they currently stand?

Bradders has made me think (damn him).

I eat a lot of meat, but it's purely because I don't really eat very much else, other than carby stuff. I know it's terrible for me but I don't really like anything green. Meh, whatyagonnado.

However, the past 6 months or so, I've started feeling Guilt. My mum is veggie, my sister very, very rarely eats meat, and when she does it's purely for nutritional reasons, and mainly only poultry.

I do not eat: veal, venison, duck, lamb (I actually dislike lamb, bleugh), rabbit, or any other kind of game.

The reason? I like most of these animals. I know it's a juvenile attitude, but my head goes baby cow!, or mum loves going to feed the ducks and I love their quacking, and so on. Rabbits are childhood pets to me, not pests. Game I'm not so keen on anyway.

Except now I'm becoming less keen on pork. I think pigs. I see bacon, I see a dead pig. I still eat it, because it's just something I eat, but the Guilt is growing.

Beef will be next, I'm sure of it.

The Chicken Run program on C4 lat night actually really affected me. I've always known about intensive conditions but watching the program over the two nights really affected me. About an hour before I'd watched it I'd had a chicken curry from Tesco and felt sick to think how it had grown up. I do try to buy organic free range chicken anyway, purely for taste reasons, but it is so expensive that sometimes I stock up on Tesco Value chicken. Not anymore, that's for sure.

Even at lunch today I went for something else over the roast chicken, despite it looking rather lovely, and not because of how much money I had in my wallet. I just looked at it and saw chickens sat in shit and pecking each other to death.

I'm not saying I'm never going to eat chicken again, but that chicken kebab doesn't look so appealing anymore.

As some may have picked up, I am an animal nut anyway. I spend more on making sure my goldfish live in the best conditions they can instead of sorting my own life out. I've always been like that. I've missed a bus once because I kept stopping to put worms back on the grass after it had rained.

Veal calves may be raised in better conditions than before, but I would still rather see surplus calves shot and incinerated than have them grow up in such ridiculous conditions, and for what anyway? A relatively tasteless meat. Give me a steak anyday. Or maybe not, actually.

I can't decide where I lie in this. Tasty vs. Guilty.

Next Tuesday, I might have to go here for a night.

8.30am
I really need the loo. I'll go at work.

9.00am
"Excuse me, love, do you have the time?"
"Yes, it's just gone 9 (oh that means I'm late for that meeting, lar. I'm sure I'll have chance to go to the loo, though)."

9.01am
*thinks* I presume that old man did mean "What's the time?". Maybe he was asking me a very open ended question - do I have time? Time for what? Maybe he knew I might not have time to go to the toilet. What a strange old man.

9.04am
Wouldn't it be cool if I did have all 'the time', though. If you wanted to know what the time was, you'd have to ask me, or a minion. The phones would be ringing constantly though, which would be annoying. No, I don't think I want 'the time'. Oh, I'm here.

9.15am
These people are all idiots.

9.40am
*taps foot* dammit, I wish I hadn't drank that water. Furthermore, these people are all idiots.

11.55am
*clench* Quiet, idiots, and when is lunch?

12.00pm
Buffet! CHAAAARGE! Can we please stop talking about how when we move to the other building and two teams become one I generally will become a skivvy and we all have to fit into YOUR plans? Harumph. *taptaptaptaptap*

1.30pm
I hope I don't find any work to do this afternoon. I should maybe go for a wee though. I'm thirsty, I'll drink this first though.

2.51pm
Yeah, there's no chance I can get up those stairs. Ouch.

Maybe I'll get to go just before I go to the cinema, doesn't start until ten to six.

What the hell is the matter with me?!

----------------------------------------

EDIT

2.59pm - 3.00pm
*Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhahahhahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!*
Six and a half hours wait. Impressive.

"Mum, you can lose weight."

"I don't wanna stop drinking. Or eating. Or do any exercise. ... I'm fat. I'm a fat fuck. I'm a fucking fat fucker."

That's exactly it, Mimi.

Thank you, C4, I've missed Shameless so much!

For once I would rather like it to stop ticking.

My sleeping pattern is still screwed up. The logical thing would be to get pyjamas on and go to bed, but I know I won't sleep. I was still awake at about 2am last night, then drifted off, but was woken about 4am by the wind howling above and below my room (my bedroom is in an archway, it's a joy - wuthering, people driving underneath to and from the carpark, and banging from the other flat doors. Lar.). Lots of cans and jars from the recycling boxes rolling around everywhere, and the standard random BANGS! that come from nowhere, wake you up, and don't happen again, but you're listening for them again anyway ("Was that the door?! They can't take my laptop!").

Anyway, wind's dropped tonight, I'm just being treated to a cat orgy instead. MeeeRRROOOOWWwwwwWWWWWWWYEAHBABYLIKETHAT!

Today's guinea pig desperation has dropped, following the realisation that they can live 6-7 years, which would make me pending 30, with nothing in my life but rodents (cavies) and fish, and, let's face it, about eleven cats, which I'll care for all by myself, as I'll have no husband.

Moving swiftly on.

I still haven't unpacked anything since getting back to Hull Sunday afternoon. I have fallen onto the pile of Stuff twice now. I haven't put any sheets on my bed. I haven't a clue where anything is, other than my fudge selection box. So much for decluttering my life!

I will, I promise. Eventually.

Plan for the week:

Do five days at work for the first time in about 8 weeks. (Terrible, isn't it? Poor me.)
Buy a java fern for the fish tank.
Start decluttering the inside of my cupboards.
Oooh I think I'll go get another hole in my ear too. A boring place, but it makes me happy!

Beep.

Slightly brighter mood this morning: Gone.

Firstly, thanks to everybody who has been so patient with me and said the right and sensible things. My mood has lifted slightly, even though I'm back at work. Not feeling 100%, but a bit better.

Secondly, I dislike having to get up while it is still dark and I further dislike a lack of pastries in Tesco en route to work.

Thirdly, I really must be feeling run down, as I think I am getting a coldsore for the first time in about ten years. HERPES ON MY FACE! Ew. *smears face with zovirax*

Fourthly, as it has been about 6 months since I got my nose pierced, I'm getting twitchy for something else to be stabbed. (Just read that back to myself - *smutty giggle*) Must delay this as long as possible.

Fifthly, I want, and I am probably going to get, a guinea pig, that I want to call Marmalade, and who will love me so much. Plus, void filled for a little longer

Sixthly, work is very slow, and I wish I hadn't had an unexpected flurry of enthusiasm and got everything done by 11am, because now I have to sit poking Row all afternoon (oops - *further smutty giggle*).

*Slaps face* stoppit! You misery! Eugh!
It's self indulgent nonsense. God knows what I'd be like if I had any real problems.

But still...

You feel miserable and sad.
You feel exhausted a lot of the time with no energy .
You feel as if even the smallest tasks are sometimes impossible.
You seldom enjoy the things that you used to enjoy - you may be off sex or food or may 'comfort eat' to excess.
You feel very anxious sometimes.
You don't want to see people or are scared to be left alone. Social activity may feel hard or impossible.
You find it difficult to think clearly.
You feel like a failure and/or feel guilty a lot of the time.
You feel a burden to others.
You sometimes feel that life isn't worth living.
You can see no future. There is a loss of hope. You feel all you've ever done is make mistakes and that's all that you ever will do.
You feel irritable or angry more than usual.
You feel you have no confidence.
You spend a lot of time thinking about what has gone wrong, what will go wrong or what is wrong about yourself as a person.
You feel that life is unfair.
You have difficulty sleeping. You seem to dream all night long and sometimes have disturbing dreams.
You feel that life has/is 'passing you by.'
You may have physical aches and pains which appear to have no physical cause, such as back pain.

Tick. Tick. Tick, tick. Tick tick tick.

I don't want to go back to that doctor.

My head actually feels as if it has things crawling around under the surface, trying to get out. Last night, while trying desperately to get to sleep, I had to squeeze my head under a pillow because I thought it might pop somewhere, like pressure that builds up and finds a weak point. I have visions of words, phrases, memories and pictures all spilling out and soaking into the pillow and mattress, and myself feeling such relief, such sweet relief, like I'm saying it all to somebody who actually understands and is listening to me, and talking back to me.

Relief much similar to nail scissors and razors in the top of my leg, except then I have that guilt.

I attempted to try and talk to B last night. It didn't get anywhere. All I felt is that here is one of my oldest friends, not to mention the closeness we once had beyond that, someone I could tell literally everything and anything to, and now I can't say anything. Conversation in bed last night went much along the lines of:

"So why can't you sleep lately?"
"I have too much in my head. It keeps me awake. I can't get it out."
"Talk to me."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because it isn't as simple as that. I have to feel like they are actually taking it in. I don't feel like I have anybody I can talk to like I need to, let alone anybody that would listen."
"Why not?"
"I don't know why, you tell me? Why don't I?"
"I don't know."
*a few minutes pass*
"I feel so alone."
"..."
"Are you asleep?"
"..."
"I think I just proved that point."

I'm trying to talk to her online now.
I think I've got it across that I'm as miserable as I could possibly be. I think she gets it now. I'm being urged to talk, because I'm "like family to her".

I'm scared to start because I don't know when I'll stop.

Tonight I'm going to B's for a few drinkies and chat and films and so on. I haven't seen her since freaking out and leaving her in town on Christmas eve. I really, really hope we don't end up talking about that.

I wrote more of my imaginary letter in bed last night, turns out it's addressed to her.

It's a pain in the arse, because it's my own head preventing me getting over this. I would never even want another relationship with her because I know how lucky I am to have her as a friend. My best friend, really.

I feel so messed around by my own head. I know I don't have feelings for her, but because I did for so long, my mind has conditioned itself to feeling like I still do whenever I see her.

And truth be told, drink makes it worse. There's a surprise

So I'm going to do my best not to think like that, and think about somebody else instead

But first - Chinese to eat, like my waistline needs it

My sleeping pattern of the holidays:
Go to bed by about 2.30am. Fall asleep at around 3.30am. Wake up at around 11.30am - 12pm. Get up about 12.30pm - 1pm. (Yes - I am still in bed right now.)

After getting up:
Take half an hour to get dressed. Mooch. Watch a film. Nibble at the volumous amounts of delicious things still left over. Mooch a bit more.

About 4pm, it starts getting dark, and therefore, the day is over. To me.

Post 4pm:
Watch Midsomer Murders or Poirot.

5pm: Tea.

6pm onwards: More TV.

11pm: Realise I am not tired.

1am: Realise I am starting to get tired. Read.

And so on.

I am going back to Hull on Sunday. I am back at work on Monday.

So I ask you: how close to the 9am mark will I be?

There’s too much clutter in my life, and I am going to get rid of it all most of it (baby steps).

Par l’exemple, looking around my room here at home, I see:

a pile of DVD sized cardboard boxes next to the bin
a pile of DVDs, still in their cellophane, stacked on the windowsill
a shoebox on my computer chair, containing a plate, three scarves and a pair of gloves, because I didn’t know where to put them earlier
On the floor, I see:
lots of wires for things that aren’t plugged in but are trailing their umbilical remains all over the place anyway
a box of perfume
a mascara
five hair bobbles
a tube of Berocca tablets
three pairs of knickers - I have no idea if they are clean
the cardboard tube from a roll of wrapping paper
a bag of sawdust
a furry bobble off my sister’s slippers

This is the tip of the iceberg. It’s unbearable. I’m dreading going back to Hull because of the extremely hurried state I left my room in, not to mention the amount of crap I hid in drawers and cupboards so that Dad didn’t shout about the mess.

What I really need is Mary Poppins to come along to point at things and make them clean themselves, and categorise things into the following:

1) You need this in your life
2) You need this like a hole in the head
3) ...You might need this one day

Thus, the cleansing of my habitat, and perhaps mind, will start now soon as some point next week. Even the trivial and ‘unimportant’ things are going to get done, because it is still clutter and build up that I don’t need, or that makes me miserable.

These will include:

Revamping the goldfish tank, and boy I’ve got plans. Given that watching my guys makes me happier, I think it’s important I like what I see. Madeleine and Alan have potentially been found a pond for the Spring (Sibling’s girlfriend’s dad’s well stocked goldfish pond - obviously slipped both of their minds when I asked both of them if they knew anyone with a pond. Bloody teenagers.), and I will keep Juliet (prettiest and most delicate) and add a few White Cloud Mountain Minnows. No more Overstocked Tank Guilt Syndrome. Well, in a few months time, anyway.

Going through my well stocked wardrobe and filling charity bags of things I don’t wear. Some of it still has tags on, stuff bought over a year ago when I tried to make myself feel better by shopping for things I would never normally wear in order to make myself think I was ok. A lot of it is thrown on top of the wardrobe in the standard household ‘for eBay’ pile, but I can’t be bothered to go through all of that. Charity bags, once and for all.

Ditto shoes. They’ve all been worn at some point, but I always end up buying new ones anyway, often very similar to ones I already own. I’m very much an ‘upgrade and improve’ person, be it a mobile, fish tank, or pair of black trainers that look a bit scuffed. This has to stop. They all have to go. Ditto underwear, socks (and I have a lot of socks, they are one of my favourite things in the world) and ‘pyjamas’ (random clothes that have stretched beyond recognition, mainly. I want new ones.)

I have a set of shelves that have shoeboxes on them containing more random crap that have been on there since I moved in last August. These have to go.

I have other boxes in my cupboard that are full of things I never use, but might need. I never need it. It has to go.

In the back of another cupboard is the bag of Ex’s stuff. I’m never going to send this back – it means asking her where she’s living now, and probably finding out who she’s living with. I’m going to go through it. I don’t want to, because it will make me cry, a lot. But, at the end of the day, they are only tears, and they will stop eventually, and by the end of it I will have another pile for a charity bag, or the bin. I won’t be getting rid of her favourite t-shirt though, that she’s had twelve years. I’ll hang onto that. Maybe not in Hull, though, it might get sent home. Just in case she ever asks for it.

My old flatmate has all the cards and presents that Ex ever got me and has been hanging onto them for me for months so that I don’t have to see them. I’m going to go through those too. I think I need her to be with me though. She never met Ex, so it helps that she can’t remember me receiving them in the first place. I’ll keep a box with some of it in, but the rest can go in the bin. They’re just bits of card with words on. They don’t bring someone back. I’ll cry, a lot, like I am now, but that will fade too.

New curtains. I hate mine so much.

I think that’s a good start.

This was brought to my attention earlier in the week.

Being the insane in the membrane nutjob that I am, I found it the funniest thing I had seen for, ooh, maybe a week. Even more so when I noticed that the close up of his nose and mouth looked like an evil white marmoset.

It needs the sound on.

Every night when I turn this laptop off and go to bed, I mentally start to write something. My brain instantly takes over. Sometimes I don't know if I'm awake anymore.

The common image is a letter. It's like I'm dictating it and someone else is taking it down. I always want to write it myself, but it gets to daylight and it's gone, everything I want to say is brushed aside and I talk about crap instead, while my brain turns to mush from all the churning thoughts that will return to plague me that night instead. It will once again be 3am and I am on my back in tears over something I can't write down.

It's nothing I can even vocalise, even if anybody would sit and listen, and even if I could ever manage to tell them.

I fantasise about finishing the letter and everything being clearer. I know this won't happen. I prevent this from happening by making excuses, because I know the potential fall out following its completion would create even more to deal with.

Such trivial matters plague me.

I think this year I'm going to have to let go of some demons.

I might need to rant about some things.

I might need to cry/drink/ache over some things. I hope not to do something else over such things, because that's something I want out of my life too. Starting with throwing out the larger plasters, so that I can't hide it.

I rather hope I can settle some things in my head and move on, just let it all go.

Ah yes, 'resolutions'.

I stuck to one of last year's: I am now able to quaff red wine along with the other shades. Result.

So here we go:

1) Buy a chilli plant. I like chillis. I like owning plants. I'm going to combine this.
2) Stop spending so impulsively. I dread to think how much money I have wasted because of this. *glances at small pile of clothes to return to shop(s) and eleven DVD-delivery-shaped cardboard boxes*. Moving on...
3) Get a new job.
4) Get new carpets out of the landlord.
5) Move.

That'll do, I reckon.

"Hello love, have a nice time?"
"Out of my way, mother. Crap, kip and Berocca, in that order. See you in a few hours."

More than a few hours later, I stumble blearily from my room, find some bread, chocolate raisins and a TV guide. Realising nothing is on, I turn to the internet, and enjoy You Tube clips of Shooting Stars (why isn't this on DVD yet? Why?) and a clip of a guinea pig eating a banana that made me laugh so hard I almost choked. I may have to share it at some point.

Soooooo, that was another new year. I saw it in with style. The style was contentment, sofa-based, with a bottle of wine on my knee, while others around me (who had probably been asleep all day, not driving through the most boring parts of the country for four hours after a sleepless night) threw themselves around in a most ungainly manner on the Wii (a device I utterly fail to see the point in, by the way, unlike the rest of the population. I'm afraid this fact merely confirms that I am supposed to rule over you all. I bide my time.) I was utterly trashed by 10pm due to sinking a bottle of wine on an empty stomach, but suddenly large plates of chicken and beef fajita goods appeared on the table. The gorge made me sleepyhappy and content to people-watch.

I've no doubt I had already annoyed everyone in the room by this point with the sound of my drunken, pre-fodder voice, but didn't give a shit to be honest. I was the hosts oldest friend and felt that afforded me every right to be annoying and get away with it, although perhaps forgetting that I was in Larndon and launching into songs from My Fair Lady and Dick Van Dyke songs from Mary Poppins on a regular basis wasn't so appropriate.

The evening was very good but I'm far too tired to express this any further. I remember it all myself, so that's what matters.

Further enjoyment ofthe past two days includes two Little Chef experiences. Brilliant. They still have the square yellow and pink lollies! Retrotastic.

Bimbling around Greenwich while waiting for G to finish work was nice. Found some lovely little shops and so on. Got dragged up some massive hill and told to look at a green laser shooting across the sky - something to do with time? Definitely going to go back soon - perhaps during the day, this time, as all of my photos are just of beautifully lit buildings, booooring!

I'm kidding of course, I didn't want to leave. Certainly wouldn't want to move there though, it's just...too big.

And as promised, in the interests of free parking, the first place Fish Boy and I went to was...a very large pet shop The fish were all really, really, really ill/dying/dead though, made me so sad, I had to leave

Fish Boy snores a lot. This annoyed me. Plus he pretended to try and push me over the barrier into the river and I nearly punched him (oh the fear!).

I also think I've figured out the reason I get on with him so well.

It doesn't matter anymore because I like somebody else

*ramble ramble ramble*

I'm off to feed the hamster more popcorn.