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Documenting not dying since October 2013.

The 7th & 8th; Ugh I am just pretty much over life right now.

The 7th of June. Jaded is how I would describe my feelings about today. I awoke to a thunderstorm at seven am but fell into a dream in which my friend had been abused by her parents so they got killed in a plane crash.

The post came early (as it does on a Saturday) and there was what looks to be a lovely magazine about happiness, but there was also a brown envelope of doom from the DWP. They're sending a Customer Compliance Officer round to interview me. It could be totally random, or someone has reported me for some reason. I've not done anything wrong but I'm still petrified because I know exactly what he DWP are like. I'm also incredibly angry because they have no right to make me feel this way.

Daddy and I went to see Maleficent this afternoon and I though that would cheer me up. I was wrong. The girl playing the young Maleficent is awful and completely unconvincing, all of the humans are pricks, and I just got really irritated by the entire film. The only redeeming feature is Angelina Jolie as Maleficent herself - she is badass bitch and you do not fuck with her.

Ugh I am just pretty much over life right now; it does not feel like all it's cracked up to be.

The 8th of June.

I woke up at six in the same horrible mood. I took a Zopiclone last night because I knew my brain wouldn't shut up but it failed to work. I think I got out of bed around eight, had breakfast and spent my morning watching Sunday Brunch/the minutes tick by. The kind of day in which you're just waiting for it to be over again. I helped Mommy choose what kind of cakes we're going to make for Daddy's birthday on Thursday, so after lunch we went out to Tesco to get some ingredients.

They had everything we needed, except mini filled doughnuts. Mommy thought M&S might have some but after a trip across the car park, it turned out that alas, they did not.

When we got home, I was still feeling angsty so I made some coffee and sat down to watch some Criminal Minds with a Fry's Chocolate Cream. Then I decided to do some crocheting (repetitive action soothes me) but accidentally jabbed myself in the palm of my right hand with the pointy end of a metal crochet hook. It started bleeding so I ran it under the cold tap, put some Savlon on, and put on a plaster and some tape to hold it down.

And after a few hours of mindless scarf-making, I feel a little better. Coffee, Criminal Minds, chocolate and crochet.

Painted in Waterlogue

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Hollyoaks' current transplant storyline: why I am angry.

The 5th & 6th; Holding onto sanity for as long as possible.