Credit Crunch

Today, I joined the library. It's all part of my credit crunching debt repayment move out of home travel the world plan. I'm kinda slowly coming round to the idea that relying on a £92 million Euromillions win could backfire on me. So instead, I'm budgeting. Today I also worked out how much I actually spend repaying debts each month (I still feel a bit dizzy from seeing it all there in black and white), and phoned Vodafone to find out if it would be worth downgrading my price plan. It turns out it's probably not worth it, but I also found out that my contract runs out in December which is sooner than I thought so I can start thinking about finding a better contract. Yesterday my sister was applying for a credit card and I quickly jumped in before she started and made her go through Quidco, so I get £25 from that. Woohoo. Yesterday I also found a fiver in my jeans that I'd forgotten about. These are all good things. I also contemplated colouring my own hair, but when I thought about it I would really need to get my hair cut somewhere cheaper too to make it worthwhile, and credit crunch or no credit crunch I need to have good hair. As a compromise, I'm going to start plucking my eyebrows again instead of getting them waxed and of course continue to push my mantra of 'nights in are the new nights out' to all of my friends.

L is for Loser

So my life is a bit of a fuck up at the moment. I have a mountain of debt, a scummy telemarketing job, and a 2:1. The 2:1 is good, obviously, but what's the point in having it at the moment except to say 'I got a 2:1'? The old age pensioners I phone every day don't give a shit. My employers don't give a shit. I have no real job. I need a real job. But I don't want one. I hate my job right now though. I'm not very good at it because I will not trick pensioners into buying a fully fitted kitchen. I won't. And I hate the people who work there. They're all fat and yesterday they put a sign up that says 'Your'e rubbish is your'e responsibility'. God I need to win the lottery, fast.

Over.

It's a bit scary to have literally fuck all to do with the rest of my life. I need to get a job. Urgently. Fly to la US of A in like 5 weeks and I couldn't even pay for 1 night in a hostel at the moment. I need a job. And a new credit card.

Taxi

I got a taxi down to the vet because I wanted to see my cat one last time before they put him down. I hadn't been expecting to have to do that and I was trying not to cry in the taxi but not really succeeding.

"Do you work at the vet?" asked the driver.

"No"

"What are you going down for then?"

*sniff* "I just need to see the vet"

"I take my dogs there"

"Oh"

"So...you do work there?"

"No"

"Well why are you going down to the vet?"

*voice shaky* "I just need to see the vet"

"Oh, right" *pause* "Aye but do you work there?"

"No"

*another pause* "Because I was going to say, my dog, he's a year old now"

"Oh" *actually crying now*

"And his, you know, testicle. It hasn't dropped.

*silence*

"That's £2.60, thanks"

Thunder, Lightning, STRIKE

One of my favourite things to do is lie in bed curled under the blankets and listen to the rain. I'm warm and comfortable but outside it's hellish. There's a thunder storm right now. The rain is literally pouring from the sky. I'm in bed with the blinds open so I can see the lightning and the TV is down low so I can hear the rain and the thunder. I love it.

Uh Oh

Can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe exam in 2 hours can't breathe can't breathe. Oh fuck. I'm really so badly deeply in the shit with this one. Whhhhhy do I do it every time? It's not funny this time. I remember a month ago I planned to start studying. To get organised. Fast forward a whole month and I've done fuck all. Now it's the day OF MY FIRST EXAM and I could not be less prepared. And it's not like it's just any exam, is it? No. It's my first fucking final. I am so dead. It's at times like this that throwing myself under a speeding car seems like the easy way out. Oh Lord. I'm getting a third. A third at best. Noooo! I can't handle this. I've already eaten a bag of Quavers and a Milky Way this morning because of the pressure. Great. 2 hours. In 2 hours I will be in that fucking exam hall. Ugh. Pens, papers, desks, silence. Shi-i-i-i-it. I'm going to get a third and it's going to be all my own fault.

Can you keep a secret?

If a secret is told to me first hand by a friend, usually (usually) I can keep it. I've never told anyone about R's boyfriend cheating on her and her forgiving him, or M being on antidepressants. But if something's told to me second hand, even with a mandatory 'Don't tell anyone, but...', is it even a secret? Or is it gossip? If the person hasn't had the decency to tell it to me themselves, then I find it physically impossible to have the decency not to spill all to the next person I'm talking to (starting with 'Don't tell anyone, but...', of course). That's the way secrets work. Somehow someone finds out and tells someone else but they're not allowed to tell anyone else and the other person promises that they won't breathe a word, even though everyone involved knows from the beginning that the person being told has no intention of keeping it to themselves and the person doing the telling shouldn't be telling them in the first place. Lalala *look at me using my hands to make a rounded tummy while whispering 'abooooortion' glancing pointedly at E*. Coughcoughanorexiccough. I kinda wish I could keep a secret but I love gossip too much. Is that a character flaw? It's not like I tell everyone secrets, it's usually just one or two carefully selected close friends. The opportunity to dissect details of another person's life is too good to pass up. He hit her!? Is she staying with him? WHY is she staying with him? V's dad is a sex offender!? Are you tellin the police? Does V know!? He gave her GENITAL WARTS!?!?!? And she forgave him!? It all demands discussion and debate.

You have to be careful who you tell your secrets to if you want it kept secret. If you go around blabbing the deepest, darkest details of your life to a bunch of randoms who you have no reason to trust, then I think you deserve to have them discussed behind your back. People need something to talk about in the pub - why shouldn't it be you?