indulge me, I am avoiding work.
Poll
What I should be doing:
* Essay on Music in Context.
* Research for project
* Health & Safety paper
* SiNtE story
What I am actually doing:
* Spreadsheet for books I've read this year so that I will stop responding with a derp noise when someone asks me what I've read
* Stupid polls to satisfy idle curiosity
* Googling dead relatives (one of my classmates emailed me with "Hello, Lady [lastname]". I Googled "Lady [lastname]" and THERE ACTUALLY WAS SUCH A PERSON. There are like, SIRS and shit in my family tree.) and live ones (finally found out my step-mother's surname. I've only known her 24 years. JFC.)
* Writing silly pulp modelporn fic for Liza (... which is now more than 8,000 words. Oh god)
* Tumblr
* Occasionally slapping the Inception button to add a sense of gravitas to my fuckig about.
Also earlier I made a necklace. Or finished making one I started the other day. And I bought a skirt. My life is wholly pointless. I want to die and I'm scared of applying to Edinburgh because I cannot take any more disappointments and the tab with the London Poetry Magazine address in it has been open for more than a month and I need to print off this letter to my grandparents and I need a stapler why do I not own a stapler ffs.
What I should be doing:
* Essay on Music in Context.
* Research for project
* Health & Safety paper
* SiNtE story
What I am actually doing:
* Spreadsheet for books I've read this year so that I will stop responding with a derp noise when someone asks me what I've read
* Stupid polls to satisfy idle curiosity
* Googling dead relatives (one of my classmates emailed me with "Hello, Lady [lastname]". I Googled "Lady [lastname]" and THERE ACTUALLY WAS SUCH A PERSON. There are like, SIRS and shit in my family tree.) and live ones (finally found out my step-mother's surname. I've only known her 24 years. JFC.)
* Writing silly pulp modelporn fic for Liza (... which is now more than 8,000 words. Oh god)
* Tumblr
* Occasionally slapping the Inception button to add a sense of gravitas to my fuckig about.
Also earlier I made a necklace. Or finished making one I started the other day. And I bought a skirt. My life is wholly pointless. I want to die and I'm scared of applying to Edinburgh because I cannot take any more disappointments and the tab with the London Poetry Magazine address in it has been open for more than a month and I need to print off this letter to my grandparents and I need a stapler why do I not own a stapler ffs.