What am I like, 45? This is so much like a mid-life crisis, I'm wondering if I need to start buying anti-wrinkle products for my invisible but-nearly-here crows feet and those worry lines I'm deepening with every high brow glance I make.
I've lost a fish to fishtank cancer, I lost the house I wanted for the semester, I left my job cause I couldn't do the hours, I've gained weight on my chin which my friends think is lovely but I do NOT, I haven't got a cool watch no more, and I've forgotten to do any revision for the test I have next week - oh the woe of me!
This week has been such a fagget, that I want to murder it for being so gay.
I will begin fixing it on Monday, when I return as the prodigal child to university. I will kick some law and public admin ass, some roody pooch doc practice butt and flykick the damn special feature writing with literal poetry in a can of whoosh! and thunk! phoowah! (cool Kung Fu noises in dialogue, ohh yeah)
But this rant has been what I've needed for a while so I will go on as long as I need to.
Ok, I'm done. Don't have much else to say, other that I'm in my pyjamas at 2:23pm eating biscuits in my room, alone. The upside of this is that I really dig my pyjamas, they look like those pink wafers I used to eat when I was a kid. Its unbelievable how strikingly awesome I am considering how lonely I am in here...
