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!