I AM GOING TO THE FUCKING GALAPAGOS ON WEDNESDAY.
Just had a major downer after work, couldn't figure out why I was so tired and irritable and wanting to go and hide. Came downstairs, grumpily made food, half-way through eating food felt Absolutely Fine Again. It was just fricking blood sugar! How mental is the amount our mind is controlled by our body, hormones etc... we really are just bags of meat and chemicals.
I have so much I want to get on with, but I'm not - stupid procrastination. I was doing some psychology-book yesterday but have stopped as it's got up to a difficult exercise, I need to get on with planning annual leave and... oh, so many things.
Where in the world should I go for a short break? I want to do water-based things: scubing, sailing, similar...
But I'm happy, don't worry about it. Can't wait til I'm grown-up enough to have a dog, though.
Sunshine has come at last, albeit briefly. I'm outside in the park tomorrow. I'm in Edinburgh in a week: awesome. I have itchy feet, I want to DO something, but I'm too scared to do it alone, or rather, without someone else's approval. Story of my life.
Come on, Kate.
In other news, the year of ZSL London Zoo Outreach went really well stats-wise (and otherwise) so I'm still employed for another year. Good thing too, I love the zoo. Hooray for baby monkeys and broken bearded dragons.
I often start these with an apology for not writing in a while, but as my posting frequency has more to do with whether I feel like writing this than any obligation: I find it interesting that I haven't written in a while.
This will just be a quick one as I need to go out & do other things, but I just feel like spleening a little bit... went to Ben & Jerry's festival yesterday and Ate Ice Cream All Day as God intended, finally a sunny day which was unexpected and lucky - everywhere else in the country appears to be under three feet of water. God clearly loves Chunky Monkey.
I have to go acheive stuff today - I worked on Saturday (just cleaning out & feeding animals a bit) so have today as a valuable weekday off. That's right, I haven't left the house and it's already 3. This comes as less of a surprise to myself now.
James is still doing his therapy, nice guy apparently called David, has him going through some good stuff by the sound of it. As for my mental health, I'm incredibly stable in comparison to a few months ago, haven't had an episode in... well, maybe 2 months even. I could do with talking about it with Mike but am of course scared. I hope he's doing better too, I'd feel very bad if he wasn't. I know he's not doing as well as me, anyway - shit at work making it stressful. No doubt I'll be in the same situation in a few weeks when my boss becomes less busy with her own stuff & more available to fuck up our work.
The end of term was mental, out in schools every single day, pretty fun but exhausting, I'm really glad to be back in the office for a bit - mmmm, working normal hours! And resurrecting the social life after that busy-ness... there's various weekend fests and things going on, so I should be seeing people quite a lot.
The housies, while I was off somewhere, discussed getting a cleaner. I'm against this for a bunch of reasons, mainly that I don't want to pay somebody else for stuff I'm happily doing myself. So we've got to have a discussion about that soon - Mikey's in Mexico for ten days so it'll have to wait, I'm not looking forward to it though. It should all be friendly & good but even the risk of conflict makes me nervous.
With the busy at work I've been thinking only wanderingly about my brain and what it's all about... I've come to some conclusions, it needs investigating more but I'm unsure what my endpoint is and if it's a good idea to move towards it: am I actually going to change any of these flaws? To what? Am I just going to be crippled with self-knowledge earlier than if I had this crisis in my 50s? Argh. It's not making me unhappy at the moment, which is the main thing - just not sure what to do with it. I know I have the major problem of needing everybody to like me, all the time. I know I fear conflict, however minor, and prefer to live in the safe past than actually doing anything, accordingly. But if I didn't do these things, what would I do? I don't want to suddenly start being a dick to shop assistants because I don't need them to like me anymore. If I stop loving nostalgia, will I want to watch movies anymore? These things are so wrapped up in me, they determine everything I do - so what else is there? It's a difficult one.
Right, must run - bank, pharmacy, food, bins, clothes, blood donations etc await. I will probably be back soon - plan on doing some creative writing of some kind today, am definitely watching a movie tonight and more next week, which always instigates LJing, and the combination of more free time + reading books about schizophrenia should push me over the edge more frequently.
I have been thinking lots, but have no time to post it - my life is not my own at the moment. I think tomorrow I shall do Whatsoever The Fuck I Like as a strike back.
But am sleepy now.
Sunday night, what a surprise, here again.
I don't like Sunday nights, not only for the obvious, but because the obvious makes me all tense and snappy and not the kind of Kate I generally want to know. Busy, busy weeks ahead, and I'm tired. Mike isn't good but he's having trouble talking about it a bit - wish I was better at his side of this i.e. the adult side.
My brother's back in the country for a couple of weeks, which is awesome, I haven't seen him in almost forever. Apparently some kind of election going on across the pond soon, which will be making him A Little Bit Busy.
I should be learning scripts and not procrastinating. I hate working on weekends.
But I am typing this on my new MacBook Pro, sitting next to my new iPod.
So, y'know - swings & roundabouts.
Seems to post in this I either need to have watched a movie/play, or have something I can't really talk to anybody else about. Well, watched two plays in the past two days but been busy afterwards so unable to post, so it has to be the latter today.
Things have been good - very busy, bit stressful at work (only 4 weeks til the end of term now so I'm almost fully booked and have loads of other stuff to do), but sane at home, and lots of good things happening. The aforementioned plays, one with James and Annekoos, and one with my folks and James, were great - I can't wait to get up to Edinburgh this year. I've ordered a MACBOOK PRO AND IPOD, which is Very Very Exciting Indeed, and means I should probably also buy an Apple baseball cap and bomber jacket to cement my new allegiance. I got a load of digital photo prints yesterday (about 200) so have spent part of today happily nostalgia-ing. More importantly, and slightly scarily, I haven't had a Really Bad Day mentally for three weeks yesterday - obviously I've had moods, and situations, but not an entire day where I couldn't keep myself in control. Very good news. I've just done chapter 7 in my therapy book and am generally feeling cautiously optimistic about my mental health at the moment - I've discovered lots of "home truths" (can't think of a non-cliche), and am by no means finished, but I feel like I'm not going to have to see a therapist, which is great. Not that it's a bad thing, it would probably actually help a lot, just the act of seeing someone turns the memory of this experience from "yeah, I had to work through some stuff that year" into "The Year I Was Mental."
So I'm doing alright. The slight misfortune that's induced me to post today, therefore, is a bit of an anticlimax. My brother's got Grave's Disease - just found out yesterday, been looking into it today (i.e. trying to find my Part III Pathology notes on it) and it's not too bad news, which is a relief - just a scary name. He's have to be really really unlucky to get the worst-case-scenarios I think. Basically he's had hyperthyroidism for a couple of years (my mum's got it, I've been tested but alright so far), has always been someone who ate loads but couldn't gain weight, and the thyroxine helped his metabolism stabilise a lot. Then he got much worse symptoms in the last month - I hadn't seen him for a few weeks before yesterday, and he looked about half his normal weight ot me, boney face, skin hanging off etc, poor guy. So he's on hardcore drugs to sort out his thyroid til it's stable (hopefully will start feeling better in a couple of weeks, and stable in 6-8), then they'll irradiate his thyroid to destroy it, then he'll be on hormone replacements for possibly forever. So it all sounds scary, and I'll be very glad when it's over, but not too bad - just feel so sorry for the guy, he's so active & healthy: works as a gardener part-time, eats wheat-free and mostly vegetarian, eats incredibly healthily - and now he's having to see himself as a weak invalid, his body not doing what his mind wants. He was pretty perky yesterday, just needs to eat a lot to keep any energy. As James says, he has just been prescribed cookies & ice cream.
So, that's the not-that-bad bad. Just worries me, for obvious reasons, and I can't really talk to others about it - Mark has clearly been through the talking-about-it and just wants to get on with it, and all my mates... well, it would just be weird to express fear about something like this which my logical brain knows is not going to kill him. She says, hopefully not jinxing it. Anyway. I hope that's okay.
My friend Maeve is a doctor - just got her exam results this week. She's a doctor. She can like, fix people. Officially. Mental.
Right, am going to do other constructive things, and dream about my upcoming MacBook. Oh my. So, so pretty.
And that's your lot.
Wrote this last night but, as predicted, the connection dropped and couldn't send...
It's not so much that I have manflu, as that a monster appears to have cut open my head and replaced my brain with a giant ball of mucus.
The wireless connection keeps dropping for no reason, so I shall be cutting-and-pasting this like a mofo. I barely slept at all last night because of aforementioned mucusball, so had a bleuch-filled day at work today, though surprisingly undepressing - I literally cannot base my moods at all on actual events occuring.
What did you do on Sunday night, Kate? Well, the housies and I hawaiian-themed our landing. Why do you ask?
Me and James bought The Aristocrats DVD the other day (which means we now have possessions to split during the divorce). I first saw that film in either Toronto or New York - New York I think, I remember the cinema being a few blocks north of my hostel and getting caught in an hours-long english-italian conversation with a random roomie that made me miss it the first night I intended to go.
Anyway, just watched it with commentary tonight. Comedy is incredibly interesting, I find the history and development so much more intruiging than, say, classical music or art - maybe even more than film, and I love film. Maybe because half the joy of the work put into it is that the audience don't know about it, or even look for it. Also of course we Olivers come from somewhat comedian stock, which has manifested itself in different ways, certainly making us all emotional cripples (which is a definition of "comedian"), but also making us interesting I think - people who look for answers, and who need certain other people to like them. Also because I'm a comedy writer, whether I choose to be or not, and of course, inescapably, because I'm the little sister of someone who's chosen this ridiculously painful career, and have therefore been studying it for at least a month a year for the last ten years. Like a very part-time University of Edinburgh course.
I'll get into this further, as it's another fairly bottom-line defining characteristic of me (I've been turning up more of those lately, I think trying to find one defining sentance that all my other actions are subconsciously based on, so I can at least understand, if not alter it. But I'll do more offline, so not to release intimate details onto the internet about a certain sibling because People Who I Don't Know Celebrate His Birthday. And that's just not cool.
Sleep, you idiot, sleep.
I haven't done this for a while - have to go to bed very soon but will do a quick one now just for the sense of acheivement.
Had another good long week of "feeling fine was I imagining this whole mental issue" then yesterday hit it again (knew I was due one) - it's definitely worse if I've not had enough sleep, so I need to make sure I'm getting more. Finally this weekend I had some alone time, which I needed much more than I realised (to use a cliche, but it's true) - went swimming yesterday and just desperately wanted to be away in Australia again, not knowing anyone, having so much space (fucking London) and being able to be alone without thinking for a while. So, I need to go be on water soon if I can. Trying to work out my annual leave for the year... I want to go to Edinburgh for a week, need 3/4 days for Christmas, and I really need to go over & see John - was thinking I'd use my remaining days around this to see the Canadians and Jus in Maryland (as I've been to NYC relatively recently), but now I'm thinking maybe I need to be away somewhere else sailing or scubing or something, and America's not the greatest place for that.
Otherwise, time's been good - Tom came over & watched Hedwig (we have almost covered all major tranny movies now), had a girlie night with some mates and Brokeback Mountain, went out & got horribly drunk in Soho after my mate Nick's incredibly good play (I have annoyingly talented friends) and dealt with the resulting workday hangover, went out with Little Ed and got bought flowers and an expensive dinner (how I love eccentric rich friends), went to a Facebook Experiment in Green Park on Friday with a load of old old friends, had a backyard barbie with the boys last night (first of many), and so on and so on. Had time to Sort Items Out and Complete Small Meaningless Jobs this weekend, which is good - means I'm starting the week feeling vaguely on top of things, at least at home.
But I must sleep to avoid being a dick tomorrow. G'night.
Much better today. Ridiculously productive and healthy (one biscuit all day, and I didn't even particularly want that one - I clearly am not well), far more so than when I'm actually myself. Long may this fragile happiness continue!
Just went out to see my friend Dan's first stand-up gig. He was not shit, I am incredibly happy to say. In fact, the majority of the acts at this actors-turned-comedians-just-completed-a-six-week-course-in-stand-up were also not shit, which, as James said, was far more than we had any right to expect. Perhaps I am becoming less of a comedy elitist (i.e. bit of a dick), perhaps I am just losing my touch, but this amateur stand-up night did not physically hurt. Hooray!
Also, Dan used two compound words in his set. I LOVE compound words. Working where I do, there is a plethora. Oh yes. You heard me. I wear a zooniform. Our team votes are zoonanimous. Etc. The post subject is Dan's description of The Penguin's (Batman nemesis) henchmen. He also described The Penguin's weapon as a gunbrella. He also made a cracking surreal joke later involving a clown turning into a vat of acid, but this is verging on plagiarism so I'll shush.
Oh shit! Have to take clothes out of washing machine before I can sleep.
I look forward to things consistently improving in my brain, and I hope that this happens now, as opposed to after a painful period of it doing the opposite.
I'm not well. I can't control my moods, I don't have energy for things I've planned to do. I'm alright, but I'm not fine. And Rog isn't well and James isn't well and Mike isn't well and two days out of seven I don't have the energy to worry about other peoples' problems as well as my own.
I had a good week, free of brain problems, thought I'd got away with it, thought talking to Mike had... if not cured me, made it cope-able. Turns out it was just a reprieve. Bad one Friday, for no reason, really struggled the whole day. Fine yesterday, very bad today, been able to do things but nothing that required concentration. Can't really write this. Accomplishments definitely help, I'm doing all the right things I think. It's just easy to get tired of not having any energy, any confidence. This evening I haven't even felt unhappy mostly, just... nothing. Don't want to do anything.
This is a bloody bad week to start feeling this way again - I've too much to do. Ack, my stomach really hurts, bloody Chinese.
In better news... my little sister's coming down tonight, which will be cool; I'm going to a Eurovision Song Contest party this weekend; we have finally employed a hot young male volunteer at the zoo (married, but still - something to look at of a Tuesday); and weekends are, without exception, awesome.
Things have been weird lately - I haven't really been feeling myself. Hence some slightly directionless posts here. And of course this happens from time to time, you don't know why you're doing the things you're doing, why you're being a dick, what you're doing or not doing to make you feel this way. This has happened to me, of course, countless times. But this time it's just gone on a little too long, and been too hard to shake, and been too... unexplainable. I've not split up with someone, or had a big change at work, or done anything in particular. I don't know why I feel this way.
Over the last couple of weeks this has become a proper problem. I'd not properly talked to Michael since he got back from Spain (he's been away 3-4 months, back a few weeks). I'd been avoiding it, because I didn't know who I was. The boys were laughing at me because I kept apologising for being a dick when they hadn't noticed a thing. But I was being a dick, if only in my head.
Anyway, it's not over yet, as the past tense in the above paragraph may imply, but it is improved, if only for the fact I'm not alone with it any more. It had got worse and worse to the point it was properly troubling me, then last weekend we went to Florence, just us housemates and our friend Vicky, and had a wonderful, relaxing time, with much walking and board games and eating of ice cream and pasta. And by about day 3 I'd started to get back to normal, or at least was only feeling different in ways that I could handle, that I could get myself out of - like when you're feeling rubbish but you know all you have to do is eat something or listen to some rockin' Ben Folds and your brain will stop being a needlessly-melodramatic idiot.
Then we came home, and reality hit hard. Not being in our Florence bubble, coupled with everyone having to run off their seperate ways shortly after our arrival, plus having to go back to a inevitably shit week at work the next day, plus lack of sleep meant I had a Seriously Shit Monday. I pinned what I was feeling down to loneliness, but I felt it so hard... in hindsight it was clearly just a continuation of this whatever's-going-on-with-me thing.
Tuesday I woke up and felt utterly, inexplicably sad. Walking to work but not feeling irritated or tired, just incredibly sad. But for no reason I could figure out, with no solution I could see (unusual for me until these last few months), and not even being able to articulate what I was feeling - just vague and thorough badness. I started to try and text message out what I was feeling, honestly not wanting sympathy or action or even really to talk about it, just wanting to not have it alone anymore so I wasn't obsessing about it so much, it was more real. I ended up texting it to Mikey.
And in a timely reminder from G-d why I should always talk to Michael about every tiny thing immediately, he texted back something along the lines of "oh my god kate, I was just thinking the exact same thing, haven't known what I was doing for a while and then so incredibly sad this morning for no reason - we must talk." I fucking love that guy, he makes everything okay. That day was - not good, but easier. Wednesday we finally got round to (or in my case, was forced into) talking. A very strange chat, I'm used to feeling similar things to Mikey (hence it being easy to talk to him about things, he immediately understands things without explanation), but not to us talking about the same thing but neither of us being able to articulate it or satisfactorily come up with a reason why or what to do about it. He's clearly got it worse than me, it's been going on with him for longer, being isolated in Spain making it significantly worse. He didn't get to work on Tuesday until 10 because he couldn't get himself moving. And he'd already talked to his incredibly-wise parents about it. Very strange we're both going through such similar things at the same time - I can only assume it's not completely coincidence. But fortunate, either way.
I still don't know what I/we are going to do about it... certainly I've felt better, easier the last few days, knowing I can talk about it more freely, but it's certainly not even partly solved. Mike had got a book on Cognitive Behavioural Therapy from his mum (who is, conveniently, a psychotherapist) which I've started to work through, and though not a solution, it's certainly a good starting point. Self-help books are, obviously, bullshit, this is not that, it's sensible and intelligent and not saying things I could easily work out for myself. Mainly, working through the first couple of chapters has helped by giving structure to this issue, it's very scariness being that it's so vague and unsolvable. It seems slightly smaller now I've named some parts of it. So hopefully that will help.
But yes, it's been a bit mental recently. Hopefully it'll end up being a small thing I never think about again. I'm incredibly glad and lucky to have Michael feeling like it too (though not so lucky for him, of course) - I couldn't consider talking to a counsellor about this one because I just didn't know, couldn't explain what the problem was - whereas with Mike I don't have to explain fully for him to know just from experience which indefinable emotion I'm talking about.
Anyway, sorry this is incredibly lengthy and explains every tiny detail - I am both anal, and massively into (even recent) nostalgia. I don't expect or intend for anyone to enjoy reading this - I sure as hell won't ever read back over it again. It's just all part of my attempts to order my thoughts.
It's this or drinking too much.
Faffing instead of going to bed... must stop, I keep buying things. Damned internet. Still, I'm owed a lot of money, it's all good. Listening to the housemates go about their bidness. Must sleep soon.
Melodramatic sigh. I am... inert.
The Berlin Wall only came down 17-18 years ago. What the fuck. The maps when we were kids had two Germanys.
Tiger got to hunt
Bird got to fly
Man got to sit and wonder "why, why, why?"
Tiger got to sleep
Bird got to land
Man got to tell himself he understand.
If this isn't nice, what is? Not sure who I'm doing this for. I miss Kurt. And possibly the Berlin Wall.
|Subject:||Make it stop|
Very, very bad hangover, fully deserved. I have never been more knackered. Bad, bad Kate.
Certain songs on repeat fuck up my mental state. This appears to be such a song. Also Blue Would Still Be Blue by The Guillemots. I should not be allowed access to... well, anything really, at this point.
Postal Service plays/
Boys chatting on the sofas/
Pointless LJ post.
Kurt is up in heaven now.
Right, I have to go to bed soon. The internet is a very very bad man.
Poor Em (my girl housemate) is going out with an army boy who's off to Afghanistan soon - not much fun, as she has come to like him quite a lot. He's good for her, she never properly relaxes, tonight seemed like the first time I'd ever seen her breathe out. Poor kid.
First day back at work after the long weekend, I'm caught between a) getting lots done because I finally have time to do so and will feel good about myself, or b) doing nothing, feeling bad about myself but having sooooo much fun in the meantime.
But most importantly, MY BOSS IS ON ANNUAL LEAVE ALL WEEK! At the risk of someone googling and finding this, my boss is incompetent and fucks up everything for everyone, and her absence, if only for a few days, is a unanimous and unmitigated joy.
Plus, the zoo has all kinds of New Animals, which has made lunchtimes a lot more fun.
However, I am painfully indecisive (ref: my a/b choice above), and have just given up for a second time trying to choose which colour of tshirt for Michael's birthday present. What the eff, Kate. Seriously. He rang last night, he may come home (from Madrid, where he's spent the last far-too-fucking-long) as soon as Monday - this has caused muchos excitement around the house. There will be cake-baking, oh yes there will.
Dear friends and family, if any of you feel like moving your birthdays from April and September to, I don't know, OTHER months of the year, thus allowing me time and money during the aforementioned months, I would really appreciate it. I hear October is lovely.
Hmm, will have to shop yet again this weekend I think. I've sorted Clare and Rooy, done something for James but need more, something for Em but need more, stalled horribly on Michael, and haven't got the foggiest where to start with John. What do you get the man who not only has everything, but now apparently does work for McSweeney's, eliminating one of the last present-sources I had left? If he starts doing something for The Onion he is forfeiting all presents again ever. Ack, it's just hard when I've not seen him for so long, can't remember what he's like. Maybe I should just go down the what-is-going-to-be-most-awkward-to-explain-to-airport-security route.
Oh actually, alright with James, we already bought him flights for householiday next month. Excellent.
... James just rang and told me in no uncertain terms to get off the internet and go to bed. I was so sleep-malnourished yesterday that I lost the ability to perform basic functions like STOPPING GRATING CHEESE, which, although obviously amusing him very much, has also concerned him with regards to my mental health.
Thus, to bed. I have been told.
Okay. Can't seem to wake up today, can't concentrate on anything, let alone two things at once. Now I've got Eternal Sunshine on, hopefully will wake me up a bit.
So, excellent weekend. I really needed the break - made a concerted effort not to hurry in anything, not to set deadlines for things that did not require stressing over. Chilled, much. Caught up on much-needed sleep - I have concluded that I am not a person I like when I haven't had enough sleep, I need to put more effort into getting enough regularly from now on. Pity sleep is not that fun :) Still, more fun than work, which I have to return to tomorrow - let's hope I can take my zen-like chilledness there too.
By the way, for those keeping up with my life, I work at London Zoo, I'm the Secondary Schools Outreach Officer - I go into London schools and do talks on conservation, some with animals. It is as awesome as it sounds. I live with my three best friends in Archway, North London - that is also as awesome as it sounds. Life is pretty good. If there's any other questions or curiosities about what's going on with me, just ask - otherwise I shall be blithering on about my Feelings and Ponderings, pretty much consistently :)
So, weekend joy - went back to Bedford, where I used to live, did a bunch of wandering & shopping in town (they now have a Primark AND a Fopp - not cool, Bedford, get cheap goods as soon as I leave), various texting of James to keep him working (being alone in the house is not good for work ethic), back to home for home-baked goodness, hangage with siblings, chattage with parents, general joy. Caught up with Ed & Cath at a houseparty in Biddenham - these two swingers I'd met once before, Helen & Nigel, nice people but... um... a little sexually assertive :) Towards, like, everyone :) But there was Smurf, and Nai, and Nick, unbelievably Nick - Nick I was in a show with in upper school, we were good good mates, lost touch during uni so I haven't really seen him for years. It was So Good to see him, so so good, he's so... good. So that made me very happy. He lives in East London now, so hopefully we can get to "be friends again". I certainly hope so. He's also proper gay now, bless his soul - I believe I told him that when he was about 17, took him til he was 24 :) The party denigrated into universal drunken kissing, which was fun - kissing with friends is entertaining :) And reminiscent of the last party I had with Nick & Smurf, all those many years ago, when we weren't yet old enough to know better :)
Easter morning was, miraculously, hangover-free. And chocolate-filled. Hung about the Bedford for a while, caught up with Ed again - he's not okay, serious issues in his relationship, I wish I could do something about it. I wish they'd do something about it. But very scary I guess, they've been together seven years, not something you can begin to dismantle lightly. I hope for the both of them they get over this shit.
Then home and out again to another party (check out my whirlwind social life) - birthday of my NewFriendLaura. Laura met my old housemate Tony at a party last year, and was interested in volunteering at the zoo, so he gave her my number. I've done this for a few people before, chatted to them about what it involves etc, but when Laura rang we really, really got on, had a good laugh. So then we talked on the phone a couple more times, emailed a couple of times, and eventually decided to meet up - this was weird, as we are grown-ups, and you don't really "make friends" this formally at this age :) So there was a strange dating-ness to our first meet-up, ending with both of us going "so... let's... eat... together... again?" Muchos fun. So me & J went to hers last night, she's got a cool housemate and they don't live far, so hopefully we'll do some house-dinner-exchange joy. This is good, I believe this was a New Year's Wish, this meeting new people. I was in Moscow for New Year's seeing my friend Ali, who's living out there at the moment. He's got lots of lovely little traditions in his family, one of them is to write down your wishes for the year ahead on two pieces of paper - one you keep, and the other you burn together on New Year's Day. I think I've done that with him for the past three or four years.
Today's been more strange, I think maybe I've just been knackered, I can't seem to wake up properly, and I'll have to go to bed soon. Not good for helping James. Or good for me. This will hopefully help, I feel like I needed to clean out my brain a little bit. I just can't really engage with anything, I'm completely apathetic. It's a pity, a little waste of the short time I've got available on this planet :) But doesn't really matter, I suppose.
I should do this more, this typing, I need to write more. I did some script ideas on the train (I write best on trains), I need to do more though, it helps me be me. Plus, let's face it, being a struggling writer is cool. When you can't smoke you've got to take these things where you can.
Okay, enough rambling for now, I'm going to go and attempt casual chat with J.
It's been an indulgent day. An indulgent weekend too, really - though that's kind of the point of Easter weekend if you're not going away. I completed my First Aid training course on Thursday so am now qualified to attach plasters wherever the hell I please.
Another post of my general thinkages, I'm afraid, this is what you get when you give me free time.
Mmm, coffee and nostalgia, it's all happiness for me.
Hang on, I'm going to have to finish this later, am being distracted by TV.
Aaaaand that's the last time I'm googling John as a procrastination tool.
Wrong diddly wrong-wrong.