Sigh

Right. I'm so fed up with the recurring situation that I find myself that I'm not even going to bother blogging it. I mean seriously, if I'm fucked off with it how boring must it be for you guys to actually read it, roll you eyes and say (out loud if not alone) "Christ, all she does is fucking moan. Moan moan moan moan".

So I'm keeping it all inside, where it will turn into an ulcer, and eventually rupture and kill me.

From Saturday me and Paul (hereafter referred to as "him" due to recent events) are conducting an experiment to see just how cheap we can make the food bill for the week. Practice and all that.

I is knitting a scarf

Perhaps with a matching hat. I've not decided on the hat yet.

Thats pretty much it. Its been quiet here.

passionless observation of human nature

I'm finding it so hard to get motivated about anything at the moment.

I'm actually getting to the stage of accepting my weight. That's how bad it is. Then I'm having a manic moment of "I want to lose weight NOW", and that too will pass in a short time/few minutes, and I'm back to not really caring one way or another.

It's not the same as being depressed. I'm not angry, raging, weepy, or anything. I don't feel down, I don't feel a great weight/lethargy, I just feel... dry.

Dry is really the only way to describe the sheer emptiness of how I feel. I feel okay, I'm not upset about it, I just feel... Oh I don't know. I find it impossible to get worked up about anything. Usually subjects that would have me ranting at the world and its injustices are being met with a shrug and an "ah well". I even knocked back pumpin'. Twice.

Its like I'll start eating my dinner, get about halfway through it and think, "I don't really want this anymore". So I'll start watching TV, get a bit through the program and wander off to do something else. Say dishes. So I'll start the dishes, get some of them done and decide "I'll leave the rest" and wander away leaving the sink full of water.

Previously where I would try to balance 1 full time job, a part time job and study, and try and fit everything else in between, life was a huge juggling act. I'm not sure how I could manage that now. It all seems like so much of an effort.

I'm in!

Conditional accpetance for Feb '08, assuming that I pass my medical (I'm still a heifer, but apart from the PCOS, I'm feeling pretty damn good) and the Police Disclosure check (I is clean man), then its cheerio civil service and hello studenthood.

In other news I've been having my fair shar of retard moments. Like when I couldn't get the door of the taxi open. Cartoonlike escapades of feet against the side of the car, yanking the handle with all by bingo winged might. Its not budging. Pauls uses two fingers (I always said that boy can do more with two... nah too easy) and the door slides open. There's been others.

Went tomy aunties for dinner yesterday, well it was supposed to be lunch but copious amounts of wine was consumed, and it led to much hilarity. One aunt on other side of my wetting herself laughing because I was trying to describe my clit peircing to my other aunt without myuncle hearing. The phrase "You know your wee button? The first bit you come to? The wee man in the boat?" set Aunt Karen off into hysterics.

A good day was had by all, and hopefully we'll do it again at some point soon. Some family skeletons out the closet, but all things considered went smoothly.

Tomorrow

I find out if I'm out, or in.

And on a side note, you know I always moan about him snoring? How it drives me insane and keeping me awake?

You know what would be really ironic? If I'd been trying to get to sleep for the past hour and a half but unable to because there's no snoring.

HMRC, Is the "H" for horrible?

Had to phone HMRC today from work because someone, another Local Office had received mis-directed mail and sent it to us.

So being nice phoned for the address and was met with what could only be described as a barrage of hostility and rudeness.

"Hi my names Marri and I'm calling from [insert work place]"
"Yes?"
"Well I have an item of mail here, its an Inland Revenue form and its been misdirected to us by mistake, so I'm phoning for the address to send it back to please, I can't see it on the form and I can't see it in the Yellow Pages"
"You've opened the mail?"
"Well, not me, our mail opening and they have sent it to us, its just been mis-directed"
"You've no right to open that mail, its not addressed to you"
"Excuse me? I've explained it was misdirected to our office and I'm trying to send it back to you, there is no returning address, I didn't open it and I would appreciate the address to re-direct it properly."
"Theres no address on the form?"
"As I've explained twice, no, because if you had perhaps put the address on the form the customer might have been able to send it to the correct office and I wouldn't be phoning you looking for an address to send you back information you have presumably asked for."

Silence

Address is then given and call is ended. Seriously get a fucking grip. You try to do someone a favour

I know, I know...

I shouldn't worry. He'll be okay, but it's still an overnight flight and stay to London, and given recent events I'm worried.

I'm always worried but I'm slightly ashamed to say that if I had the option of him staying here and not having to fly to London I would be pushing him to take it.

On a side note my kitchen looks like a huge litter tray minus the shit. Turns out the washing machine has been leaking ever ... so... slightly over aperiod of time which means when we have finally discovered the leak its leaked down the back of the machine, under the lino and grown slime ould under most of the kitchen flooring. We discovered this as we were cutting away a bit at a time to see how deep that rabbhit hole actually went. So lifted the lino, and spread cat litter down to absorb the moisture from the soakedwood. It's mostly dried out now, but I need new flooring in the kitchen.

Gah.