Ho hum.

I've come to the conclusion that I'm not really mature enough to work here. I'm capable of doing the work (at least, I will be when I figure out what it is I do) but I really don't think I have the right frame of mind for it.

I forget that I'm 24 next week (ye gods!) and actually haven't even been a teenager for years, yet sometimes I feel about 18 again, and actually envy all the first years with their stupidity and flagrant disregard for anything in life beyond the daily barbecue in the SU. (Damn, it smells good.) Then I stop envying them and wish there was a standard entry exam for every student entitled "Common Sense: Theory and Application".

I know what the problem is. I've never been in trouble in my life. I recall being told off about 3 or 4 times in my entire school life. I am becoming belatedly rebellious. It's come too late though, more's the pity. It's all going to have to stay in my head. So now I am sat here, trying to figure out exam support arangements, thinking how much I would prefer to be spinning on my chair, pissed as a piss, with zero repercussions.

I also really want a house, dog and baby. In that order.

Booooo to growing up.

I'm back at work today. I really don't want to be. I feel sick and teary and ready to slash someone. I have piles of work to do that I am expected to understand, but my goodness me, confusion hangs over my desk like Eeyore's raincloud.

As usual, I'm seeing if the answers to my problems lie in the bottom of biscuit barrel. They do not. There are, however, double chocolate chip cookies and chocolate cream hobnobs. Well done, boss man. In lieu of answers, they will suffice.

Could be worse. Could be surreptitiously swigging from a bottle. I think I prefer biscuits though.

In other none-work related news, I'm finding it troubling that the only thing I can think clearly about and concentrate on is raising goldfish. Nitrogen cycles and water params, fine. My own head, not so straightforward. I need to spend less time laying on my bedroom floor staring at my perfectly formed babies (with the exception of the one that can only swim in circles, but he's my favourite) and more time on trying to organise my thoughts. I really, really want to hide, from everyone.

On a plus note - got paid today, and they got my wages right. Hurrah for an extra £350 a month (until September, anyway). Boo to having to work for it.

Go thar.

1. What is your favourite comedy film?

There are too many. Anchorman. Shaun of the Dead. South Park the Movie (I'm serious). Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls. I find most American teen movies to be unbearable (you know the kind I mean) with the sole exception of Road Trip. This film is hilarious. I tend to laugh at films that are probably really awful. Actually, that's probably why they are funny.

2. What is your favourite comedy on TV?

Black Books. Peep Show. Scrubs. Shameless. Family Guy. Gavin and Stacey.

3. Who is your best Comedy actor/actress?

Simon Pegg.

4. If you could write a comedy what would it be about?

Somebody's alreay written it, it's called "Day to Day" and it's played out live right in front of me everyday. Oh no, wait - that's my job.

Ok, srsly: the subject would be irrelevant as my word it would be cynical.

5. What is the Funniest thing you have ever seen be it in person or on a TV show or film?

...of all the problems with blog.

Not the problems themselves, but all the moaning.

Yes, it is a pain in the arse. However, something tells me that the little blue men know there are problems and that they're not just sat spinning on chairs, eating paprika crisps, laughing about it.

It hasn't always been like this. Have some patience, it won't last forever.

Better not do anyway *shakes fist*. (Kidding, kidding!)

It is 9.43am. I shortly have a meeting with somebody to do something that isn't my job. It could not even be slightly my job. It is done by a different service in a different building. Apparently I wouldn't mind doing it, though. I like having people speak for me.

I digress. This place does that you.

8.00am: I open my bedroom door and find a card and little bag of chcolates off my flatmate to cheer me up. It did cheer me up. Very much. Nom nom.

8:02am: Turn around and see something small and dark in bucket of water for cleaning out goldfish. Look closer. Recoil in horror.

Dead mouse. In my goldfish bucket.

DO! NOT! WANT!

This job was supposed to be a better change for me. In reality it is stressing me out so much that I feel really rather ill.

!!

Songstress Robyn has just been on TV, which reminded me that my flatmate thinks she looks like Brian Harvey in his East 17 days. This is both funny and accurate.

I have cut my fringe myself. It is too short. I look a fool. I should've waited until I see Dan to make him earn his £100 by doing the maximum number of snips.

I am planning a new fish tank. I'm not getting one, but I like to plan them like I am anyway. Actually, I want two. One 5ft one for my goldfish (3 original and 2 of their babies). I want one about 60 litres for some corys and guppies. Funtimes. Cannot have either. Gives me a sad.

I want a living room. I don't like not having one.

I am in such denial about Monday. It's making me a bit sick. The whole of May is a terrible month, workwise. DO NOT WANT!

Fin.

Baby fish are growing up. I really can't be bothered to battle with the slowness for some photos on here but I've update their album on Photobucket. They are almost three months old now and I can tell the difference between a fair few of them. I don't think I'll be able to give my favourites away and therefore should anybody have a 400-500 litre recepticle hanging around in the loft or spare room it would be gratefully received over my way...

I has it.

It's actually rather strong vin and a small amount has made me feel quite thick headed.

I have brain fry too. I don't know whether I'm coming or going.

My mind is approaching maximum capacity in some areas, while others are pretty empty and a bit numb. Gnumb. I prefer it with a G.

I also had too many Thai crab fishcakes earlier =/ more than a bit full. Hope I don't see them later.

*swirlbrain*

Much confusion reigns.

Fa la la.

That Friday feeling.

I just can't keep it in.

*stares intently at clock*

I sent an announcement out to various people about the death of a student and got a few basic details entirely wrong.

I sent another email out asking for reports and agenda items for a meeting. I should've sent this out two weeks ago. I do not know what to do with the replies, let alone when for.

I spent 2 hours creating a prettily shaded table and then lost the sheets of information I needed to enter onto it. I made it up.

I did nothing of any particular use.

However, on the up side:

To practise ordering things on the ridiculously complicated ordering system, I purchased a plastic bin and a tipp-ex pen. The bin is to put on my head.

I opened a desk drawer I hadn't yet fully investigated and lifted a tray. I found a voice memo recorder, three mini post-it note stacks, and - AND - a freakin' mechanical pencil. AMAZING.

No students came to the workshop we ran at a Hall. Instead, many of them walked past the room to play table tennis. This is only a bad thing to the boss. Me, happy.

Same boss asked me to come and listen to an answer machine message that she thought sounded like someone drowning in the bath. Relieved to assure her it was only traffic noise.

Saw workmate's baby. She is very, very small and very, very beautiful.

It is becoming a simple, stark fact that I haven't a clue what my job is. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. It's hysterical.

Opening a rather red envelope this morning did at least remind me that I'm supposed to be paying things. Whoops.

While I remember, a funny from my sister at KT Tunstall gig:

*I offer her my water to finish off*

"Eugh, why would I want to get my mouth around that, it's warm and covered in spit!"

Why indeed, dearest.

I had a good weekend at home.

KT Tunstall rocked the kasbah. Well, Grimsby Auditorium anyway. Fucking hell she's hot, and so funny, and did I mention she was so, so hot? Oh my goodness. I went with B, my sister and my sister's new GF, who is remarkably like B in many respects. When I think about my sister's love-life I immediately start singing this. Just a bit of word association. Gotta love Burley Chassis.

I spent about £450 yesterday. £298 of that was on two new pairs of glasses, which were sorely needed. Lots of dark-rim action. One rim has bits of red round the edge. (Oh my God, don't say a word.)

B came round after work yesterday and told me off for becoming just a little bit too trendy to what she's used to, with my new fringe and specs. She then ate all my blueberry and cranberry toffee.

(She's probably off to Sandhurst in September and that's all I can say on the matter as it all makes me feel quite sick.)

I saw my nanna and grandad after their three month jaunt to New Zealand. Grandad looks older than before. He had a stroke while he was out there. He was well looked after though.

The 9.30am meeting this morning that I spent ages faffing around with the lunch order for (gluten free fuckers) was rescheduled to start at 11.30am as we had nothing to talk about. Only half the people turned up anyway, so I smuggled most of the brownies out (Hospitality folk get very cross when you steal food you have paid for, especially if you take the plate). We established that the new premises we are moving into will not be ready until 'some time in June'. They are buying us headsets that will be £100 each, but there is no switchboard facility, so as it stands we won't be able to put calls through to other people. How incredibly useful.

I have eaten many brownies and feel sick.

I have just had a moment where I questioned my entire existence (or at least, "why am I sat right here, right now?"), brought on by staring out of the window, looking at the grey skies and students wandering past, while The Heat Is On plays on Radio 2, and the rest of the office is empty. Seriously, what the fuck? Why am I here? WHY?

Not content with confuddling me enough by making me do my actual job, I have been dragged into doing work for two other departments today. There were no reasonable reasons for me to say no, other than me calling them lazy. I couldn't do that, so...*adds 20 things to To-Do list*.

I need to walk home now. Hull Perma-Drizzle(C) has just started, and I don't have my brolly with me.

Good night.

You're going to sense a theme here:

1. What was the last book you read?

'The Hundred and Ninety-nine Steps' by Michel Faber.

2: What are you reading now?

Nothing, but 'Under the Skin' by Michel Faber is on my bedroom floor ready to start.

3. What one book do you wish you had written?

The Crimson Petal and the White. Guess who by? It's exquisite.

4. Who is your favourite author?

Well I'm just going to steal from Jenniebaby for this one:

"I used to be completely indiscriminate about reading - I would read absolutely anything and everything (don't get me wrong - I was able to distinguish between good bad - but I read them all anyway).
However, since I have a full time job, I have less time to read".

Also an English degree can fulfill your reading needs for a good few years.

Lately I am enjoying a re-ignited interest in...Michel Faber.

5. I recommend you read...?

'Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About' by Mil Millington. It's been around years, spun off the website, but I still find it so, so funny. When this guy sends an email out to folk on his mailing list it brightens up my day, he has me in stitches.

Also, the book mentioned in no.3 above is incredibly good, if you like neo-Victorianism at its most decadent.

And this is why (no, none of it is particularly bad, but whatever):

I have a virus on my work PC. It's not even a proper one though. It's the worst kind - an MSN spread virus. Incredibly 90s, incredibly embarassing to have. I didn't even click the damn thing and now everyone I speak to is getting messages asking "Is this really your photo :S *link*". I'm trying my hardest to get rid of it but a few little things remain, mainly due to me not being able to install a better anti-virus thing, as it is being blocked by the uni network, which should have blocked the bloody thing in the first place. I can't ask IT to get rid of it as we aren't supposed to use MSN so it's my own fault (although personally I think anybody who does should get a small medal, perhaps a pin badge, to ackowledge their effort and determination to get round the big bad "I said NO to MSN!". Hmph.)

Side effect of said virus is the predictable pop ups. Radio 2's website prompts a pop up about a lingerie company. Googlemail is Hard and Horny Personals. Everything else is, cruelly, an advert for spy and adware blockers. Bastards.

I also can't see my taskbar, so to change programs I need to open the tasklist and switch programs. This is beyond irritating.

Not waking up until 8.10am today and spending a few minutes after that wibbling about a dream meant I didn't have time for a shower, so I am greasy, head to toe in fact.

I've got to clean all 3 fish tanks out tonight. That's a total of 165 litres of water to be removed and replaced, with the aid of one 12 litre bucket.

I want more fish and it's annoying me that I can't get one. I want a 60 litre Bio-Orb with one calico fantail in it *lovelove*, but that is far from ideal set up for one and my fishy-common-sense will hopefully prevail.

My back still hurts.

Payroll don't know I started a new job so I might not get paid enough this month.

I'm off tomorrow and Monday. I'm going home for a few reasons - my grandparents are back from New Zealand (finally), I'm going to see KT Tunstall on Sunday, and I get to go see B's dad's golden lab puppies. There is potential for thievery.

On Tuesday we have another 4 hour meeting (minimum) about moving to the new office that we were supposed to move to in March but have not yet moved to, so let's all have more meetings about it eh?!

I have ordered too much food for the above meeting and worry that this will make people think I ordered extra for myself. I really, really haven't. Ok, maybe the brownies and mini cheesecakes (and mini pastries) were unnecessary.

I have had 6 weeks to do a report for that meeting and I haven't done it. Therefore I have 70 minutes to do it. I won't do it. I'm doing this for starters. Fucked.

The minute I finished writing that sentence, my eye started twitching.

Y'know that scene in Black books where Fran starts working for a company but has no idea what she is supposed to do, so does nothing, but is still praised endlessly? I feel like that.

Still waiting for letter from doctor.

I thought that at some point soon I would have to make some choices regarding my emotional situation and future (ooh, cryptic) but I think I was wrong and way off the mark.

The only chewing gum available to me at the moment is peach flavour *retch*.

Vice still squeezing head.

Still twitching.

Aww man I'm losing my freaking mind.

Whoosh.

It's gone.

If I had the physical and mental energy I'd get all friends only on yo asses and just talk and talk and talk.

As it stands I can't so I shall merely provide some words to summarise:

Ineptitude.
Stupidity.
Humiliation.
Blind.
Hurt.
Also, not hurt.
Baffled.
Why?!
Argh.
ARrrrGggggHhhhh.
Sigh.

Not to worry! Spit spot!

EVERYTHING NEEDS A KICK UP THE ARSE!

EVERYTHING!

That is all.

I have £14 of vouchers to spend on a CD/DVD website by tomorrow.

I need ideas of what to buy. I cannot think of anything but chocolate digestives at the moment.

Hmm.

...is bloody excellent. I had my doubts, as I thought it might be soppy, and I don't do soppy. But it isn't soppy, it's bloody brilliant, and everybody should go and see it. Now. I don't give out praise lightly or often, so it must be good.

Look how weedy his little arms are! I don't know these chaps names and if I had less of a headache, and a faster stolen internet connection, I would look for them. Suffice to say it makes a change to see British kids actually acting well. It also takes place in the 80s which makes for some excellent hair dos.

Thus ends that review.

This week has taken for-ev-ah to finish. I am pleased that I only have 90 minutes to go. I have been rather productive this week, but in time honoured tradition, it is Friday afternoon, so I am doing buggah all. I also have my jeans on - I will instill dress down Friday into the office mindset if it kills me. Well maybe not. It doesn't mean that much to me. Plus it freaks me out when the boss ever does wear jeans. It's just wrong isn't it?

New job is odd. I don't know what I'm doing and *flail* a lot, waving bits of paper around screaming things like "Why to Scarborough Council want £7000 off us? Why do I have to do it?", and being restrained accordingly. I'm making a decided effort not to do much of my old job, but as somebody else is also off on long term sick I'm still having to do bits of it. It needs doing, and I've felt charitable this week. I think I'll reward everyone by ordering nothing but plates of brownies for lunch in a meeting next week. I'm sure I'll be loved for that.

Of course the flipside to everything at the moment is that I'm in the middle of a headfuck episode. It is gripping my temples like a vice. It's kind of a speak now or forever hold your peace issue.

Maybe I'll elaborate, but not tonight. Tonight I'm off to see Son of Rambow.

Remember when my goldfish got horny in January and presented me with over 100 eggs?

About 80 hatched and a couple of months later I have 42 left.

They are in a glass, yes.

They have all grown at different rates, some are still less than 1cm but the guy in the last picture is the biggest one at just under 1 inch. His name is Bob.

I am enjoying this

An album called Clubland Classics, nay, Classix has just been advertised on my tellyvisual device. I sang and bopped to every track. Iz jst wrng.

In other news, my finger tips are sore from typing all the long day and I has a headthrob and I hate students.

However - Bumface in HR has been overruled and I don't need another CRB check done, and therefore started earning more money today. Slightly more joyous!