...farewell.
It's been emotional.
See you on the other side. More likely not.
"There comes a moment in the day when you have written your pages in the morning, attended to your correspondence in the afternoon, and have nothing further to do. Then comes that hour when you are bored; that's the time for sex". (H.G. Wells)
| Mo | Tu | We | Th | Fr | Sa | Su |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | ||
| 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |
| 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 |
| 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |
| 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 |
...farewell.
It's been emotional.
See you on the other side. More likely not.
....changed it again, the hamster is Gizmo now...:D
Today I look like shit. I really do look like utter shit. My hair is filthy but 15 more minutes in bed was by far preferable to a shower (sometimes I just really hate getting wet), and I have a scabby cardigan on as I feel so bloated I half expect my stomach to try and float upwards in front of me. I did NOT want to come to work today. I finally arrived about 9.15 - after taking some kind of record to eat a bagel *eternal chew* - to find the door locked and the lights off. "Woohoo, nobody knows I'm late, because they are too!". No, everyone's sick. Am I allowed to go home? No! Apparently, putting a sign on the door and locking it to keep students out will mean I will be wholly undisturbed and in an EXCELLENT position to create a 'statistics report' for the 'HEFCE return'. Uh huh.
Alternatively, I could eat these seashell chocolates I've just found in the fridge, browse bcuk, Facebook and eBay, fart really loudly (as often as I like), take a VERY leisurely lunch hour-and-a-half, and leave early. I also get to listen to Radio 1 ALL DAY! And joy of joys, the Klaxons version of It's Not Over Yet has come on, and goddammit I'm going to spin on my chair to it.
...is null and void as I don't want Pete or Hercule.
Bizarrely though, MenoMama got it right...I've gone with Hercules.
Although I might go with Wilbur. I fancy two syllables.
Jesus, I hope I never have a kid.
Bollocks to 5pm, I'm off home, and I'm not coming in tomorrow. Boredom-stress related issues. Health and safety and all that. I've a date in the pastry section of a tesco express.
Meet my latest impulse buy. And I really do mean impulse, I'm talking less than an hour between deciding I want one and having him in his new cage.
Introducing...well I haven't decided for definite on a name yet, but as a temporary, potentially permanent option, please meet: Pete.


Other name options have included:
Dylan (which it has been up until last night)
The Professor
Lenin
Butch
Noodle
Janet
Ed
Dippit
Vladimir
Rafferty
Ralph (as in Rafe)
Ralph (as in Ralph)
Rupert
Batfink
There were many more. I don't do cutesy. I'm open to suggestions!
Your pirate name is...
Arch-Captain Fanny La Bouche
Marvellous.
Something has just happened to me.
I am no longer going to worry about where I will live for two weeks.
I am not going to worry about money.
I am not going to worry about being lonely.
I am not going to worry about the growing biscuit addiction.
I'm not going to worry about staying friends with everyone long enough to go to V.
I'm not going to worry about what the weather will be like at V.
Because these have just entered my life.
| Your Five Factor Personality Profile |
![]() Extroversion: You have medium extroversion. Conscientiousness: You have medium conscientiousness. Agreeableness: You have medium agreeableness. Neuroticism: You have high neuroticism. Openness to experience: Your openness to new experiences is medium. |
To a T, me thinks.
I'm also decidedly 'medium'.
Actually, I better not quit. Let's be sensible. *crams in a biscuit*
| You Are 45% Pure |
![]() You're not so innocent... in fact, you're quite unpure. You have seen and experienced a lot. And you're no worse for the wear! |
What nonsense.
I'm not sure how going to a gay bar, deciding you are gay, coming out as gay, and shacking up with someone of the same sex are 'unpure'.
Unless you're accounting for some of the things that can go on once you are shacked up.
(Yowza)
| Your Personality is Very Rare (INFP) |
![]() Your personality type is dreamy, romantic, elegant, and expressive. Only about 5% of all people have your personality, including 6% of all women and 4% of all men |
Thank you for drawing this to my attention, Mrs_F.
I think it's going to be one of those days.
Really don't agree with this, by the way. Nothing elegant about me.
...So, what do I do with all her stuff? Take it with me? I will have lots of cupboard space in the new flat...I'm sure I can stash it for another year...
Having said that, the other night I made a small mental list of what I AM going to be keeping:
All cards/postcards/letters
Most presents. Some random rubbish can be thrown out let go (Like the giant lollypop. Although, that mofo is so heavy it could be exceptionally useful as a burglar weapon *thwack* *crack*).
The blue/green/yellow checked boxers.
Maybe the pale/dark blue checked ones. They ween't my favourites though.
The blue vest top she slept in.
Her bandana.
Things I know I will be sending back include:
Her t-shirt from the 1994 World Cup that still fits her. It's very soft and her cousin bought her it. I know she'll want that back.
The penguin boxers.
Turqoise Gap jumper.
There's loads more but I can't remember what's in the pile. Still not looking forward to going through it but the alternative is carrying it around the rest of my life, making sure I always have ample cupboard space. Hmm.
In othe flat news, we have a verbal agreement on a dining room table and four chairs for £25. Bonza. They belong to the person moving out of the flat that the person's flat we're moving into will be moving into. Yep.
I've just bought some St John's Wort. I'm not sure how effective it is but I'm trying it anyway in the hope that it makes me a little less despairing and scratchy. I am feeling quite positive now that I know I'm moving but also trying to ignore the constant niggling 'Where will you live before you move in, and how will you afford it when you do?!' voice. I suppose I better ask my current landlord if I can stay for another two weeks or so at the end of this contract, and then hope that Workmate has moved out by then. If she hasn't, I face around two weeks of traveling from Hull to Grimsby and back every day. This is not a pleasing prospect. I can't bear using that bus more than once a fortnight, let alone twice a day. Eugh, such vile people on it. Plus, it's not just a case of packing a large bag for a couple of weeks at home - I've got 40kg of goldfish related paraphernalia to lug about. Definitely scrapping the idea of getting a guinea pig. A dog would be less trouble.
(Jenna puppy please, Mr Funky. Boy.)
I told my other flatmate that I wouldn't be moving upstairs with her due to the whole moving out thang (not the sickeningly 'nice' one - I haven't told her at all. Whatever). She didn't seem too perturbed - quite excited, in fact. I haven't told the other girl I would've been living with, who already lives upstairs, but then, she never comes down anymore anyway, so she can't be too concerned about my existence right now. None of them really come down anymore, unless they want something. Like the hoover. Or the foil. Or baking trays. I haven't seen them since my birthday two weeks ago, where they all went up to bed without even saying goodnight, after sitting in their coats all night - proving a point about money, I think. I can't say I have any desire to go up there and be met by stony silence and glancing looks, so I guess I'll just see them when they're ready.
I'm feeling a little hormonal which makes me more than a bit bitchy and right now I feel no emotional attachment to anything, bar people I never see, and possibly fudge. And a large vodka. And biscuits. Oh man, I love da biscuits.
Is it just me or is today going r e a l l y very slow? I've had very little to do today so I have been Browsing for Crap (which I won't be putting in my job evaluation). In 23 seconds I'm going to go get a biscuit.
I'm sure this has been seen by everyone who ever existed, but I find it amusing, so there we go:
Yesterday...
Me: You, Workmate, you're moving out of your flat this summer aren't you?
WM: Why yes, yes I am.
Me: When?
WM: Middle of Augustish.
Me: How wonderful. May I have your flat?
WM: Why...yes! Yes of course! Would you like to come round and look?
ME: Yes! When?
WM: Tonight! Yay!
Later...
Me and current Normal Flatmate: Why this is a lovely Flat. We shall take it.
WM: How wonderful!
Today...
Me: IIIIIIIIIIIII DON'T HAVE TO LIVE IN THAT STUPID FLAT ANY MOOOOOOOOOOOORE! I WILL HAVE A BAAAAAAAAAAAATH! AND A GREAT BIG ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! AND A DINING ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! AND A LIVING ROOOOOOOOOOOOOM! AND A PLACE FOR THE FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISH! AND I WON'T HAVE TO PUT ALL MY BELONGINGS IN ONE CUPBOOOOOOOOOOOOOOARD! AND I'M GOING TO BE HOMELESS FOR TWO WEEKS BUT I REALLY DON'T CAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARE! BECAUSE I'M FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
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