Tuesday, 28 December 2010


Earlier today, my dad said that when you're angry, it's the best time to write. He was talking about writing songs, but he's correct - I have found it much easier to make note or ramble incessantly about rubbish when in a foul mood. Normally it's abusive letters to Arriva, but thankfully I haven't had to get on a bus for a few days now. So I'll let the blog bear the brunt of my anger; not that I expect anyone to read this shite (other than my mum, maybe), it's just easier, and slightly less nerdy, to type rather than scribble it all down in a diary.

Except that I'm not really angry any more, just slightly put out and have the minor hump - in a 'oh, bloody hell', exasperated kind of way. I can't be bothered to be angry, it proper takes it out of you sometimes.

I have a problem with my temper. I'm like a bitter old man. And it's inconsistent too - one minute I'll be fine, the next I'm inconsolable with rage, usually over something tiny. A few examples of why I get so annoyed are:

BUSES. I spend at least 60% of life hating them and their drivers for the following reasons: being late, not turning up at all, being early but not stopping and waiting at my bus stop (unless I'm on the bus and in a hurry and it's any stop EXCEPT mine), not having change for, say, a fiver, being unnecessarily moody, kicking me off the bus for having the cheek to tell them they're late, telling me they're going past the elms then turning off at the broadway thus adding 15 minutes to my journey home in the cold and I already needed a wee, etc. I realise I've written about buses in almost all of my blogs (except the one about things I love) - but this just proves how useless they are, surely. I used to think trains were alright, but now I hate them n'all since I went by train to Brighton and the whole journey took me 5 and a half hours instead of the usual 2 and a half. I so badly need to get my car off the drive.

Technology in general. I hate to sound like my dad here... but it just frustrates the hell out of me. My tiny little HP notepad that I'm writing from now is quite sweet and well-behaved really, it's more phones I can't stand. It's more that they can't keep up with me, not the other way round. On my phone, if you turn it to silent, it also turns the alarm to silent. Because that's useful - doesn't everyone wish they had a silent alarm?! There's no way of changing it, so now I have to leave it on loud and get woken up by drunken morons at 4 in the morning asking for solutions on how to get home and such. It also doesn't understand any word with an apostrophe, S - "Mum's", "John's", etc. It instead offers me the word "Mum.p". Oh yes, that's the one. That's definitely a word. Then if you challenge it, it goes, "Spell?", as if to say "Well, I'm stumped now. Go ahead and add whatever made-up word you want, love - it's (sorry, it.p) your phone. You idiot." Not using Dictionary is not an option for me, that frustrates me in itself, so I'm stuck with it. It's quite funny though, when you go to add a word to the dictionary, and it puts it in quotation marks like so - " 'floaty' - now added to dictionary". It's even funnier when it's a swear word.

Oh, and it also likes to go "This would be sent by 4 SMS, OK?" like a real person would.

Other, less trivial reasons and ones that I really can't let go of are things like being interrupted. EVERYONE interrupts me. Apparently it's just the done thing now, and it's not rudeness, just a way of joining in with the conversation, but actually it's not. It's just rude - it means you couldn't care less about whatever it is the person you're speaking to is saying, because you have something better or more important to say. I hate it, and I can't believe so many people HAVEN'T picked up how much it annoys me when they do it.

I also get angry at myself a lot, for not being happy with who I am and constantly wanting to change and better myself. Which isn't always a bad thing I guess. But more often that not I want to be like other people, for example... I'll feel ok about what I'm wearing, then see someone else wearing a lovely dress or really good makeup and instantly feel shit about myself, rather than thinking 'oh that looks nice, maybe I'll try that'. Another thing that really gets on my nerves is when I think that other people ignore me, think I'm an idiot, or childish, or not in the same league as them. I always feel like the outsider, not quite on the same page as anyone, really. I never fully agree with what most people have opinions on, but pretend I do just to keep the peace. I feel like people laugh behind my back about what I say and do, or basically just forget I've said anything at all. I want to be able to trust people but a lot of what some of my friends say doesn't stay secret for very long.

Lastly, I get angry for not doing all the things I promised myself I would. Like learn more on the piano, or learn to play bass and drums. Losing weight, - although I'm stuffing my face with Lindor chocolates whilst writing this - clearing out my room, buying clothes that fit and suit me, making things like cushions and bags, setting up a savings account, etc etc. I have to be pushed to do anything, but most of all, I hate not being independent. That doesn't make a lot of sense, really.

Oh and one more thing - I have been wearing liquid eyeliner for 4 years now, and suddenly, I can't put it on without smudging it. THAT makes me angry.

See, I feel better now. :)

Monday, 22 November 2010

More of what I love...

Fires. In fireplaces. Particularly the one at The Railway.

Tea! Of all varieties - Earl Grey, Lady Grey, Jasmine, Green, Elderflower and Rasberry, quite literally, a tea-party.

My tiny heart-shaped flowery cushion.

Kate Bush. Her lyrics make no sense. But I love her, and she wrote some beautiful songs.

Here, There and Everywhere;
Let It Be;
She's Leaving Home;
Here Comes The Sun;
I Want You;
You're Gonna Lose That Girl;
She Loves You.

In fact, I love them all.

Songs you can relate to massively.

Times when you're in public on your own and you really, really wanna start singing your head off. Better, though - times when you're NOT in public and you can sing your head off in privacy. Like the shower. I do understand the concept of singing in the shower. Good acoustics in bathrooms.

Being well sleepy, and not having anything to do other than fall asleep. Particularly in your boyfriend's arms. And by yours, I mean mine.

Vintage crap I don't need, but definitely want.

Bright blue sea.

Things that smell GREAT. Chanel Chance, Soap and Glory, Nag Champa joss sticks, Herbal Essences, anything from The Body Shop. But also - petrol, nail varnish, paint, blown out matches, bread that's just been made, newborn babies' heads, clean washing, new books, fish and chips (before you've eaten it), smells that remind you of important people and the smell of your own home.

Getting a text that makes you laugh when you're on your own.

Having a really good night out when you hadn't even planned it.


Heart of Glass and Atomic.

Watching a film and deciding you're going to live your life like a character from it, starting from the moment it finishes.

Ellie Goulding when she sings Your Song, and you kind of wish you were her a bit.

The tartan sack.

My mum.
My whole family, in fact. Again :)

Crap Christmas songs, with the exception of Santa Baby and Santa Claus Is Coming To Town.

Seeing someone you've really missed.

Being told you've been missed.

Not being on fire. Aaaaw.


Karma Police, arrest this man. He buzzes like a fridge, he's like a de-tuned radio.

I'd rather be liberated, I find myself captivated...
I'd rather be jumping ship, I find myself jumping straight in...

A heart that's full up like a landfill, a job that slowly kills you, bruises that won't heal...

Come and hold my hand, I wanna contact the living. Not sure I understand this road I've been given.

Remember the photographs? Insane... the ones where we all laugh, so lame. We were having the time of our lives, well thank you, it was a real blast.

I was looking for a job and then I found a job, and heaven knows I'm miserable now...

Damn my situation, and the games I have to play, with all the things caught in my mind.

Illusion never changed into something real. I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn.

I'm ashamed of running away, from nothing real - I just can't deal with this, but I'm still afraid to be this...

I'm looking through you, where did you go? I thought I knew you - what did I know? You don't look different, but you have changed. I'm looking through you, you're not the same.

Keeping an eye on the world going by my window, taking my time. Lying there and staring at the ceiling, waiting for a sleepy feeling...

Look at that sky, life's begun, nights are warm and the days are young...

Waiting for the gift of sound and vision, drifting into my solitude, over my head...

Love and happiness... something that can make you do wrong, make you do right.

All relevant, somehow.

Sunday, 21 November 2010

Here's the thing.

It's 2am, and my sleeping pattern is rubbish. Since I have no spuds to peel or washing up to do (both of which I find quite therapeutic) I'll just ramble on here for a while until I feel sleepy.

So -

1. Red or brown?

I wasn't joking when I quoted Mr. Cobain on my status update last week... 'I need an easy friend, I do, with an ear to lend'...

Where have all the good people gone?!

They've escaped Southend, obviously. Left for sunnier places. I don't blame them in the slightest. But I do bloody miss them, a lot. I wish they'd come home so I can resume having a social life.

I'm grateful for the few left behind who make the effort to talk to me, still.

Thursday, 4 November 2010

Some good songs I recommend.

If you don't have any of these or haven't heard of them I suggest you have a listen to them, they're all great, for different reasons.

Some of them will be really obvious...

Let It Be - The Beatles (if you seriously don't have this, there's something wrong)

Love and Happiness - Al Green

The Island (Part 2/Dusk) - Pendulum

Tempted - Squeeze

54-56 Was My Number - Toots and the Maytals

Los Angeles Waltz - Razorlight (I know. But it's quite good)

Morning Sun - Al Barry and The Cimerons

Reptilia - The Strokes

Sound and Vision - David Bowie

Golden Years - David Bowie

Red Alert - Basement Jaxx

Plug It In - Basement Jaxx

No Surprises - Radiohead

Blinded By The Lights - The Streets

AM 180 - Grandaddy

Time Of The Season - The Byrds

The Day We Caught The Train - Ocean Colour Scene

Genius Of Love - Tom Tom Club

Sing Swing Sing - Benny Goodman

Radio Ladio - Metronomy

You're Gonna Lose That Girl - The Beatles

Lovely Rita, Meter Maid - The Beatles

Ticket To Ride - The Beatles

Cheap And Cheerful - The Kills (Fake Blood Remix - it's a million times better)

Everywhere - Fleetwood Mac

Little Lies - Fleetwood Mac

Zoot Suit - The High Numbers

Itchycoo Park - Small Faces

Ride On Time - Black Box

Electric Feel - MGMT

Don't Dream, It's Over - Crowded House

Live Forever - Oasis

Bulletproof - La Roux (I STILL love this song)

Oh To Be In Love - Kate Bush

Hounds Of Love - Kate Bush

Nothing But A Heartache - The Flirtations

Where Did Our Love Go - Diana Ross and The Supremes

Aerodynamic - Daft Punk

Courtship Dating - Crystal Castles

Frontier Psychiatrist - The Avalanches

Woo Boost - Rusko

Mars - Fake Blood

Robot Oeuf - Uffie

Kids - MGMT

Half In Love With Elizabeth - Mystery Jets (Foamo Remix)

Rock The Casbah - The Clash

Yeah Yeah Yeah La La La - Calvin Harris

I'm gonna have to stop here, I need to go to work. There's about 100 more... I'll post them some other time. Happy listening x

Tuesday, 2 November 2010

One day...

...I will own a little cafe. My mum and I can be business partners. We won't do much food because God know's I'm no cook and I don't think mum really fancies it. She'll be the licence holder and general manager and I'll do the accounts and paperwork. And we'll both make the tea and put croissants and cakes in cute little bowls. It'll be quite small so it's not mad busy all the time but enough to make a profit and keep everyone happy. Children and adorable puppies welcome at all times. I should probably have a word with mum about this since I've just assumed all of the above. She mentioned in passing it would be nice, so hell, we're doing it.

Then there's all this...

... I'll be a size 10. Or stay a size 14 and stop giving a damn.

...I'll stop worrying about trivial things. Like the above, haha.

... I'll be able to be friends with whoever I want...

... My body will realise it's only 20 years old, not 80, and act as such.

... People would start TEXTING ME BACK!!

... I'll learn to drive my poor car instead of spending 90% of my day wanting to kick a bus shelter in and punch the driver in the face.

... I'll stop dropping things and falling into things and generally hurting myself.

... I'll be able to pour milk that's out of a brand new bottle, and not spill it all over the bloody floor.

... Likewise with boiling hot water.

... I'll learn to drag myself away from Facebook once in a while and resume a normal life whereby you speak to people's faces rather than typing to a picture of them.

... People will realise that actually: I'm a nice person. I generally like most people and am willing to be friends with everyone. I hate bitching and arguments and things said behind backs etc. I can be a bit shy and not know what to say at first but on the whole I'd like to think I'm a decent human being who gets along with most people, until they piss me off, but there's always a valid reason for that.

...I will learn to make delicious food, knit jumpers and scarves, create and customise bags, cushions, bedspreads and clothes, design and decorate rooms, write music and draw.

... I'll grow my nails.

... I'll get the hell out of this town!

Sunday, 31 October 2010

A much more pleasant list of things I love.

Being exactly the right temperature.


Reading a book that you can't put down.

Getting new shoes.

Roses, and anything that has a rose on or in it.

The Beatles.

Having a cuddle, a proper embrace as opposed to a one-armed, half-arsed slap on the back.

People stroking my hair.

Finding a cheap, well fitted, pretty dress. (That doesn't happen very often.)

Earl grey. And Earl Grey biscuits!

The summer. In particular, hot weather.


Cranberry based cocktails.


Colourful bracelets.

Buster, one of my nan's cats. He only has about 40% vision, so he always has his eyes wide open, like a kitten. He's the most gentle, quiet cat in the world and I absolutely love him to bits.

Little animals in general. And big ones, actually.


Getting my makeup right the first time.

Clean bedsheets.

Having a tidy room.

People making me laugh by telling really shit jokes.

The film Across The Universe.

Chanel Chance and ALL of the Ghost perfumes.

Soap and Glory.

The Simpsons.

Strawberry wine.


Having somebody really pretty, tell you that you look pretty.

Being able to play something new on the piano.

Getting a sweet text.

Ducks and penguins. I already said animals, didn't I...

Someone laughing at me (but not actually AT me).

Herbal Essences.

Anything from The Body Shop.

My boyfriend.

My family.

Here's a giant list of things I hate.

Half a tub of wax being smeared all over your hair. (cheers Glen.)

People stealing your chocolate.

Smelling like play-doh.

Lower back pain.

Chest pain.

In fact, to save time, any kind of pain or ache.

People who call Rosé, Ro-SAY, when it's RO-say.

People waving money at you to get you to serve them quicker.

Buses and bus drivers, all of them, forever.

Spilling things down your front.

Not being able to find something in your bag when you know it's in there. Especially a ringing phone or a bus pass when you're about to get on the bus.

Bad grammar and spelling. Especially when people create a new word altogether as an attempt to save time (supposedly). For example - 'kl', 'yer', 'kk', 'gdgd' etc. Also - 'hehe' is NOT a word. It's 'hee-hee', if anything and even that's retarded.

Oh, and it's 'can't be arsed', not 'can't be asked', although that actually makes more sense. But still, that's what it is.

Shaving your legs, then the hairs growing back as soon as you get goosebumps.

Being ignored.

People not texting back, when you know they've read the text. (I guess that ties in with the above.)

Knowing people think you're weird or rude or something, but never saying it to your face.

Really busy nights at work, where you can never get on top of it no matter how fast you go.

Hitting your head. I just did. Ow.

Splitting your nails.

Accidentally catching your nail on a razor.

Anything painful or squeamish that involves nails or eyes.

Eyelashes falling out.


Greasy fringes.

People snoring.

Feeling sick, and being sick.

Being so tired you have no idea what you're thinking or doing.

Early mornings.

Cold tea.

Cold showers.

Cold weather.

Being chubby.

People bumping into you, then not saying sorry, even though you've said sorry out of habit and politeness.

People with no manners.


Crumbs in bed.


The internet not working.


The following smells: mould, vomit, stale beer and dirty dishwashers.

Having an incessant tickly cough.

Plucking my eyebrows.

Losing money.

Not being able to sleep.

Being shouted at.

Realising you've written an entire list of things you hate, using inconsistent tenses.

Sunday, 17 October 2010


It's 3.04 AM on a Sunday and I really ought to be asleep by now. However, I'm not, for the following reasons:

- I've eaten way too much sugar
- John will not stop snoring or grinding his teeth, and -
- I didn't get up till half past 2. Fail.

How the hell do you break a rubbish sleeping pattern? I'm not lazy. Ok, I am. But not in a sense that I just can't be bothered to get up and do something with my day. I just literally CANNOT wake up in the mornings. I set my alarm for 10am every day (10!! 10am!! Who even needs to set an alarm for 10am!! Most would consider that a generous lie-in) - but I either don't hear it or turn it off while I'm only about 2% awake. I then generally wake up 2 hours later feeling like a train has been dropped on my head and I had a bottle of night nurse with my dinner the night before. I don't understand it.

Lucky for me I don't start work until 2pm most days.

This sleeping (or lack thereof) lark is a vicious circle. I don't wake up until midday. So then I can't fall asleep until 4am. Or I fall asleep at midnight, then wake back up at 4, and don't fall asleep again until 8am. So then I wake up again at midday having tried to salvage a full 8 hours sleep. So then I don't fall asleep until.... zzzzz. (Not.)

Nothing works.
I have tried Kalms (make you tired ALL the time)
Camomile tea (not keen on the taste, end up replacing with normal tea which is full of caffeine)
Reading (If it's a book worth reading, then you'll bloody stay and up read it, won't you?)
Counting sheep (do one)
Eating a tonne of cheese (does nothing to help you sleep but makes your dreams really fucking cool)
Radox (it just... doesn't work...)
Hot milk (gives me a stomach ache)
and... Alcohol (which doesn't bode well for NOT feeling like a train has been dropped on your head the following morning.)

Blogging isn't exactly helping either, funnily enough.

I'm yawning now. But that doesn't mean anything.

Tips, please...

Lessons Learnt

...This week, and in life generally.

- Don't leave your belongings where opportunists and light-fingered dickheads might be able to find and take them.

- Don't trust anyone, with anything.

- Try not to combine a habit of extreme clumsiness with 15 cups of punch and a pair of heels.

- If you like clear skin and a flat tummy, not eating 4 bars of chocolate a day might help.

- Your fake nails will turn the colour of any food you hold in your hands. Lime jelly for instance. It's not a good look and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.

- Tea, despite the lack of wow factor taste-wise, is still the best drink in the world.

- Don't wear hold-ups to work in case a cheeky git with a camera follows you up the stairs.

- Don't wear white shoes to work unless you didn't like them white.

- Don't wear any item of clothing to work that you consider a valuable item.

- Don't vent your anger to anybody, for fear of upsetting or annoying them. Instead, bottle it up and laugh, and wait for it to develop into a tumor/mental breakdown.

- Don't eat your boyfriend's Haribo right before bed then expect a good night's sleep.

Saturday, 9 October 2010


Hold me daaaaaahn... all the world's asleeeeeep. I need ya noooooow, you knocked me off ma feeeeeeet. I dream of yooooou, and we talk of growin oooooold. But you said, please don't.

Slaaaaiiide in baby...


Why can't I sleep?

Is It Possible...

... for a boy to act his age?

for a bus to run on time? (I'm a little hung up on buses.)

for something to still be there 10 minutes after I've put it down?

to not drop my keys everytime I try and put them in the front door?

to go blonde, having very dark features and not look stupid?

to keep a room tidy?

to simply stop wanting something you know you'll never get?

to stop eating cheese?

to lose a spare tyre but keep...up top?

to stop jigging my leg?

to smell nice 24/7?

to stop daydreaming, ever?

to get this song out of my head?

to stop waiting for an imaginary event?

Seems not.

Thursday, 7 October 2010

About 6 months gone with a child of cheddar

Sometimes, when I'm bored or fat, I like asking people this question -
'If there was a pill you could take, instead of eating, like a supplement once a day, would you take that instead?'

It surprises me, the amount of people that reply yes.

I read a quote once, I won't pretend to know who said it, and it was something like 'One of the very best things in life is that whatever you're doing, no matter how important, you must always stop and take time to eat'. HOW VERY TRUE.

Eating (next to sleeping) is one of my favourite hobbies, ever. (It's at this point that I look down and realise I've spilt sweet chilli sauce on my tshirt.) The cooking and preparing of it I'm not so keen on, but luckily I have been blessed with thoughtful and creative parents who don't mind making it for me, and a boyfriend who makes a pretty decent cheese toastie.

You have to eat to live, durr. But what I love is the variety of it all. It's a necessity, but it can be as simple - or as extravagant - as you want it to be. Take a jacket potato for instace - plain (boring, but healthy)..., baked beans, whatever, or how I'd eat it, which is loaded with butter, salt, pepper, and prawns. It's a heart attack on a plate but oh my god, it's so tasty. You can keep it casual or dress it up and eat the whore out of it. Mmmm. It's also a sociable thing - for many people the only time they get to sit down and talk to their family or partner etc. John pretty much lives on a diet of cheese, bread, sausage rolls and haribo (and still manages to stay skinny - bastard) but I will literally eat anything edible... with the exception of ravioli, and meat. But not fish. I am allowed to eat fish because I'm a hypocrite.

Anyway, last year, working at the pub full-time, I had some quite moronic punters (men... of course) asking if I was pregnant. And in fact, getting quite irate when I had the cheek to be offended and put them straight. At the time I was re-assured with comments such as 'It's the top you're wearing' or 'if you stood up straight, your tummy would be naturally flat'. This is bull-SHIT. Looking down now, there's definitely a bit of a bump there. Fortunately, I now don't care at all.
I spent all this past summer trying to diet for our holiday to Fuerteventura (incidentally, I didn't really lose any weight until arriving there and getting a stomach bug). It was pointless, all it did was make me grouchy and tired. At the end of the day, if eating a massive lump of cheese makes me happy, I might as well eat it. There's always that exercise bike in the front room if I get really desperate.

I read an interesting article in a magazine the other day. It was of a quite chavvy looking girl arguing her point against your 5-a-day, saying that life is short and there's no time for salad - she pretty much was living on kebabs and chips. Well, she weighed about 9 stone. It's alright for her then innit, lucky fast-metabolism-having COW. I like vegetables anyway. But you know... next to a pizza or in my halloumi and mushroom wrap at Nando's.

Or strawberries covered in chocolate.

For now I think I'll just check out the maternity range at Topshop and when people ask when my baby's due, just reply - 'Oh, I'm just really fat'. That seems to make them squirm.


Friday, 1 October 2010


Just shut up now. You're starting to get on my nerves.

Facebook is a social network, not your diary. Some of the things you're updating your status with are making me really cringe. I know I could just block you but you'd notice, probably. I'm just REALLY fighting the urge to write, 'NOBODY CARES...' underneath it.

I do post my own load of irrelevant BS on facebook, yes, but there's a big difference between boring/ unimaginative, and too personal and to be honest, downright rude. And vain.

Would you call this bitching? I'd call it venting.... before I end up telling you, to your face, what I really think of the way you talk to me, to other people, to your entire list of facebook friends. And I don't want it to come to that.

All I seem to do is vent. I'll post a pleasant blog one of these days.

The Beatles are cheering me up a bit.

Coffee rant

I've been left on my own in the office...

I started 2 posts earlier and deleted them both, because I could feel the people behind me reading over my shoulder (they'd have to have amazing long-distance vision, but that's possible) and it all sounded stooooopid.

Can't even remember what I was talking about any more.

I was rambling on a load of drivel about being angry all the time. I never finished that. I'll post it later on, so you all have that to look forward to. :/

To be honest I only started writing to vent about the fact that all my friends have up and left Southend for one reason or another. 2 of them have done the clever thing and gone off to uni... in fact, the other moved back to Braintree, so they've all done the clever thing really and got away from this helllllhole of a town. It's really shite, isn't it? The more time I spend here, the more I grow to hate it. The palm trees they've planted by the college make me laugh; that really isn't going to make the slightest bit of difference to the town's reputation. And that accomodation building is HORRIBLE.

In the summer, John and I cycled into town to have breakfast, but it was a wee bit of a waste of time. We ended up in the Last Post, eating brunch (that they specially made vegetarian, on a one-off basis, just for me, ain't I lucky), and quite frankly, I could have done a better job at home, but anyway, that's not the point - the point is, why is a Wetherspoons the only place you can go and eat a cooked breakfast?! Why are there a million coffee shops and a little bunch of chain restuarants, not even very nice ones, but so few authentic little tea shops and cafés? What kind of a town needs two starbucks, one is too many. And two Costas. And a Cafe Nero - across the road from fucking Starbucks.

I did go to Costa like, last week. But only because I wanted a chocolate tiffin.

Where my grandparents live in southern Ireland there are so many cute, one-off tea rooms, restuarants, pubs and delis. And people over there are NICE. They say hello to you in the street. I don't think there is such a thing as an Irish chav. On Wednesdays, they sell puppies and assortments of cheeses and jewlery and stuff. It's nothing like the german market that comes to Southend, it's GOOD. Last time we went in the summer, I didn't want to leave.

Southend needs CULTURE!!

That is all.

I'm going to lunch. Somewhere that isn't a coffee shop.

Wednesday, 29 September 2010

As the lights dim, so does my co-ordination.

I lit some candles, bashed both funny bones on my bed frame, kicked my computer tower, spat out some water, spat out more water laughing at myself, got up and kicked the tower with my other foot. By accident.

I don't know why it was even funny but it made my chest ache. Then again, everything does. When my boss gives me an impossible task, drinking a hot chocolate, having a shower...

I'm going to bed.

But as a footnote, why does everyone say that they love things they obviously hate?
Sarcasm does not convey well over the internet.

Well, that is just typical...

Earlier on at work I had loads of different things swimming around my head whilst trying to concentrate on Invoice no. 2667. At the time, starting a blog seemed like a good idea, like a diary to write down all your ideas and troubles etc, but leaving out the embarrassing entries, like the page that's just a big list of future offspring's names...
Not that I've ever done that.
But now I feel like maybe a blog defeats the purpose since you'll obviously edit what you're really thinking for fear of freaking out or offending people by being honest. It's all for show, for other people's entertainment and judgement. But then, don't you want people to see it?

I don't even have anything relevant to say anymore. All the stupid, niggly things worrying me at work, dissappeared when I had dinner. All I'm bothered about now is the fact that the cleaner's been and moved my belongings, and now I can't find my hairbands or matches or the books I specifically left under my bed so my boyfriend wouldn't see them on the bookshelf. Sometimes it's fun to re-read Jacqueline Wilson stories.

Everything I've written is deeply boring and if anyone bother's reading this first pitiful entry (and they won't), I apologise.

I'll think of something better to say next time. I'm getting in the bath.