(no subject)

Dec 15, 2005 10:07

I figure since I'm staying at my old house for the week, it is a good time to try and entice myself into writing a journal entry. I'm wary of going back and checking exactly how long it's been since I wrote in here, because it's been months and months and I would probably end up with performance anxiety. (Heh--I say probably, knowing exactly how much of my life is ruled by said anxiety. I'm addicted to equivocation--if you don't believe me, go back one entry and count the adverbs.)

My brother's housemate (formerly mine) is busy sleeping through her alarm. She has done this most mornings that I've been here--the house is completely silent, so I can hear the insistent beep-beeping two rooms, three closed doors away. Being back here is such an odd combination of the surreal and the comfortably normal. My old room, that I lived in for, oh, ten years, is stripped of so much that made it mine, apart from the items large enough to resist the whirlwind of packing required to shift 20 years of accumulated junk (or alternatively, the items too large to fit into my new room). Nevertheless, I still think of it as my room, it still feels like I live here--I walked in earlier and tried to put an apple core in the now non-existent bin by the door.

Ok, I lied about not going back and seeing how long it's been since I last posted. It's been forever. Like, before I started my new job, forever. There's so much stuff that's gone on since I stopped writing in here, and the trouble with livejournal, of course, is that you feel obligated to detail it all, to fill in all the empty space, despite the fact that a) nobody cares, and b)...nobody cares. Let's see if I can do it in less than a hundred thousand words, *takes deep breath*

Lost job, displayed for the second time amazing luck at falling into employment and got new job at big commercial bookstore (thanks, Harry Potter!), loved new job, worked far too many hours at new job, spent far far too much money, worried that I was prioritizing work over uni to dangerous extent, bought ipod to distract self from worry, decided that I wasn't endangering my academic fortunes sufficiently by working 30 hour weeks and said yes to offer to move in with two best friends, lied to parents re: potential academic disaster by claiming that new place, being just across the road from uni, would in fact be beneficial for studies, bought new bed for new room, discovered night before moving that said bed was too big to go up the stairs at new house, had slight nervous break-down and frightened boyfriend, moved in anyway with old bed, made boyfriend sleep on floor, amazed friends and family by having time of life instead of crying incessantly and hiding out in room,

AND BREATHE

...found out laptop refused to believe there was a wireless network in the house, and thereby refusing to connect to the internet, had no internet for WEEKS (or possibly, a week), cried incessantly, finally dragged brother over to work computer magic and fix it in under five minutes, had INTERNET, realised that exams were in a week, sulked, studied, sulked, nursed boyfriend through group project from hell, finished exams, handed in final essay only a week or so late, slept A LOT, then worked A LOT, found out I did not fail the law course I deserved to fail, got credit in other law course, did quite well in English courses thankyou, was oh. so. RELIEVED, turned 21, had nerve-wracking dinner where boyfriend met parents, grandmother, and godmother all at once, boyfriend did not run screaming into night never to be seen again, was oh. so. RELIEVED, parents bought new, stair-friendly bed for 21st present, boyfriend bought gift-card from my own bookstore for 21st present, boyfriend believes himself to be some kind of comedian, had delightful 21st dinner with friends, and no relatives whatsoever, where boyfriend gave actual present, turquoise necklace, v. pretty, boyfriend then went away for two weeks to the coast WITHOUT ME, *sob*, old grumpy family tabby living with brother got in cat-fight, got sick, went to vet, went apeshit at vet as per usual, vet suggested test for feline aids, test came back positive, brother went overseas and I came to look after poor sick kitty. Also, I got married. (One part of this is NOT TRUE! I leave it to your discretion, gentle readers, to determine which.)
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