Sunday, 27 February 2011


Ok, so I'm writing this post instead of finishing the essay thats due in tomorrow. Stupid? Very. Do I care right now? Not in the slightest. I'm afraid that I'm going through one of those phases where the world seems rather pointless.

I know that that is a very stupid attitude to have. Don't get me wrong, I'm under no illusions when it comes to how lucky I am to be where I am right now. Many people with the same background as me are living in council flats, on benefits, knocking babies out just so they can claim a bit more on the social. Potentially they're better off than I am right now, but thats as good as their lives will get. I don't expect to change the world, but at least I potentially have the chance to make something of my life, if I so choose. Trouble is, I just can't be bothered. I can't summon the energy to care or make the effort or anything of the sort. So no, I don't care if my essay gets handed in late. I don't care if I get kicked out of uni or fail my degree. I don't care if I gain 20st and end up on television as Britains Fattest Student. I know I should care, and I do really want to care, I just...don't. What is wrong with me!? Maybe I have a tiny little mind that can only cope with one problem at a time.

To be honest, I think it must just be that I'm going completely stark raving mad. I've spent the last week wondering if I am, in fact, the last sane person on the face of the planet, which is surely an indication that I myself am going mad!? Surely if everybody in my life turns into a lunatic at the same time, it means something is up with me? My perception must be off. They all seem to think their behaviour is perfectly normal. But it isn't. Not to me, anyway. Because people don't just change. The sensible girl-next-door doesn't suddenly turn into a nymphomaniac. Responsible forty-something men don't just end their marriages. Reasonably intelligent men don't just become completely thick and oblivious. Arseholes don't become nice people. Nice people don't become arseholes. Not all within seven days.

I think thats enough to give anyone a case of the crazies to be honest. Under the circumstances, I think I'm bearing up quite well. (As I write that, I'm currently sat in the corner of my room, rocking myself. Juuuust kidding!)

Ok, so, as you can tell, its all blown up in the last week. The big news is that daddy and stepmummy have called time on their 'marriage' (yes, it was that bad that it merits a '') meaning that my clever plan to live there next year went down the pan. Trying to find somewhere to live in Canterbury after the middle of December is a nightmare when you're a student, so looking at the end of February, on my own, was never going to be fun. Fortunately (and I say that with great trepidation) I have managed to find four friends who needed to fill a room. The trepidation in that statement stems from the fact that they are four male friends. It has the potential to be hilarious, or an out and out disaster.

Me and my roomies!!!

While I'm not a girly-girl as such, I do have a bit of a thing about clean kitchens (not that you'd know that from the state of my one at the moment) so fair warning to them, they will get nagged. As well as this, while they're all absolutely lovely individually, when they get together they become four of the biggest wind-up merchants known to man. Hopefully they'll get bored after a couple of months though. The weird thing is, I'm not so much worried about them winding me up, as I am about me winding them up by being all 'oestrogen-y', as one of them charmingly phrased it.

I feel given the title of my blog I should mention something vaguely a friend said to me the other day 'you're blog is supposed to be about weight loss, but all you do on there is gossip'. To which my (very honest) response was 'yes, but I'm shit at weight loss, and good at gossip'. Kind of says it all. Having a friend to stay, being at home for a week and trying to work on essays has kind of pushed anything remotely healthy out of the window. Like I said before, I know I should care...I just don't.

There's not really an awful lot more for me to say at the head is swimming with the Wallace Stevens essay that I should care about, and will need to finish at some point tonight or tomorrow, so I can't really think of anymore witty anecdotes of philosophical wonderings. Maybe next week I'll be more interesting.

I wouldn't count on it though.

In the meantime, I'll leave you with some new(ish) pictures - finally!

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