Monday 7 December 2009

Day Six - All the little things

Quiet day today. I woke, freezing, at half six and noticed that Jason had snaked his way onto my bed during the night. Fortunately no wet poo. It was so dark, and the bathroom light is broken, so I lit candles for my shower. But due to there being no heating the bathroom got so steaming it put all the candles out, so had a bit of a scary shower in the dark. Then had to battle with Tom Tom who, for some reason un known to me, likes to lick my knees after I have showered. Teeth chattering I got dressed and flattened my hair. Felt decidedly forlorn so put on dueling banjo's as I started to walk to uni, followed by some Yann Tiersen and felt fine by the time I got to uni.

Fell asleep during Cultural Studies. Post Modernism architecture for two hours did not grip me. I only piped up once to point out the hidden picture that Michaelangelo painted on the Sistine chapel after learning it on QI last week. Finished off my essay in the library afterward and scowled at the girls who were whispering on the top floor, the silent floor. If I wasn't allowed to eat my lunch up there, they most splurtainly aren't allowed to whisper about boring shitey bollocks including Top Shop and the Uni bar.

Psychology was good, as ever. Tried to record the voice of the annoying girl on my dictaphone, but she rudely sat too far away. I did accidently shout out "Bollocks" as a gut reaction to the statement made by the lecturer that men think about sex constantly and women very, very rarely do. More personality tests proving that I am more masculine then feminine. Over heard the annoying girl whispering to her equally annoying friend that they had decided that I was a lesbian and they didn't seem very happy about it. Aah, a glimpse into the life of twatty teenagers.

Walked home, feeling rather brave and bold, through the park in the pitch black. I was stomping along when all of a sudden the light of my phone reflected onto the inside of my glasses and I absolutely shit myself thinking someone had just thrust their face into mine, a ghost obviously - being the totally rational person that I am. After that I was completely petrified. Very aware that I had a 15 minute walk through a dark, dark park I proceeded to call everyone I know so that I could give them my bearings so they could pin point me if I got attacked by a ghost/ mauled by a bastard badger/ bum raped etc. Finally got a hold of my dear mother who amused me greatly when I said I was in Cultural Studies this morning she said "You did what with cod dear?" I love my mother, she is an utter loon.

My good deed... a very simple one... I gave £1.80 to the chap who begs on Saddler Gate. I used to give money weekly to all the beggers in Derby when I was 17 and had money, they used to call me Angel. But since I've been poor I have neglected to do so. I can afford my house and I can always scrape money together for deperados, therefore I should start giving money to beggers again. No excuses!

I also went to visit Wifey at Quad, always a pleasure. Even if it was only for 20 minutes.

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