I sound very superficial in these two posts.
That last entry was very angry and grumpy. A lot of those problems have sorted themselves out. Look:
I banged my head on my desk. I have a lump and a headache. Apart from the potential loss of brain cells, there is no long-term harm done...as far as I know.
I dropped my sunglasses on the floor, so now I have a pair of £160 sunglasses with fucking scratches on them. Although I am still mildly annoyed at this, it's not the end of the world. I'll probably lose them soon anyway. I always do.
I have more work to do and cannot be faffed. More work = more money = new clothes.
I have to find £520 quid from somewhere for rent, in a week. The Bank of Daddy has kindly given me a loan. End of money drama...for a while.
I completely shattered one of my nails and it is now being held together by glue and hope alone. Turns out superglue and hope alone are bloody good adhesives.
My thighs are the only part of me that is tanning. I look ridiculous. Nobody apart from Rob sees my thighs, so to everyone else I'm still as pale as ever. And as for my oneplaceonbody tan looking ridiculous to Rob...I'm sure he's seen me looking a lot more ridiculous.
I am tired because I couldn't sleep until 4.30 this morning. I couldn't sleep because I am reading The Shining and I scared myself thinking the horrible bath woman was in my room. Hello childhood fears. I have now finished the Shining and gone back to HP, less nightmare inducing on the whole.
I am back to uni in 2 weeks and I still haven't heard if my dissertation subject has been approved by the ethics committee. Fucking rubbish. This is still true. Bloody bastard uni minions.
So, all in all, I'm a happy bunny. I'm back to Sheffield on Sunday, freshers week next week then back to uni. 9 months and I'll be done with education forever. It seems like it has taken me forever to get to this point, but I am still so surprised...like I wasn't expecting this. The idea of applying for real life jobs, hunting for a house, moving to London...it all seems so unreal. Really grown up. Though I suppose, at 23, I should be feeling at least a little bit grown up by now.
This year should be exciting and horrifying in equal amounts.