Everybody knows the war is over...
So, five days of freedom and absolutely nothing done. Just what the hell was I expecting? Two books to read, about five DVDs to watch, a job search, not to mention a little insignificant application I needed to write. Well, I personally blame everything on Simon Amstell. I had no way of knowing he's so funny and so cute that I will need to watch every single episode of Never Mind The Buzzcocks he ever hosted. Repeatedly.
I really am a queen of wasting my time.
The thing is it's always really easy to justify it. I'm very stressed out (well, this time probably true - people throwing glasses at you have a slight chance of stressing you out), I'm extremely broke, it's too cold to do anything or the best one for this time of year: It's Christmas. A legitimate reason to do fuck all but stuff your face full of chocolate and wake up a stone heavier.
Even though I know full well it's only going to make me feel a big fat miserable nothing I still do it.
Everybody knows the good guys lost...
I really am a queen of wasting my time.
The thing is it's always really easy to justify it. I'm very stressed out (well, this time probably true - people throwing glasses at you have a slight chance of stressing you out), I'm extremely broke, it's too cold to do anything or the best one for this time of year: It's Christmas. A legitimate reason to do fuck all but stuff your face full of chocolate and wake up a stone heavier.
Even though I know full well it's only going to make me feel a big fat miserable nothing I still do it.
Everybody knows the good guys lost...