"Where the only way out is to sleep and to dream // And to cry out your name"

Aug 23, 2008 22:23

(If I could vid, I would so make an Eric/Vince angst-vid to 'What became of the Likely Lads'. Or possibly 'Can't Stand Me Now'. I mean, 'The Libertines' is pretty much a break-up album, a chronicle of the collapse of the relationship of two 'fucked-up codependents' - really the whole album would do)

In other news, multific's finishathon voting I think closes in 1.25hrs, so if you haven't voted yet it's: here. Though unless something very strange happens in the next 70mins, I'm writing Torchwood. Do any of y'all really hate Owen and feel I've written enough of that already?

But mostly, why in the name of all that is holy, am I incapable of writing an application form? Talking about myself should not be this frakking hard. If you were going to employ me, why would that be? (See me be cunning.)

I appear to be moving back to Oxford in less than a month. (Which, yes, hence the application forms). It's either gonna be a year of splendour and pistachio icecream, leading to me staying there forever, or I'm going to go bankrupt and live on the street. At least they're nice streets.

Spurs have lost the first two games of the season, including at home to Sunderland. This does not bode well.

Okay, back to lying about my customer service skills and efficiency.

real life: hysterics, writing: process stories, real life: jobhunt, real life: sports, oxford

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