This is different, this is business!

I made a promise to myself last week that I would try to be nicer to people, and in particular, I would try to be more pleasant at work instead of sounding like such a mardy cow. But it just seems that events conspire against me. Firstly, I seem to have a bit of a golden touch when it comes to technology. My computer, my CD player and my mobile - oh yeah, and my housephone - are all broken to some extent. The radio can only get really shitty reception, so the only things I have to listen to are a Pink Floyd tape and a mix tape this guy from my sixth form made for me. He was a funny one, he once locked me in his house, and he arranged to get transferred into my tutor group. It got a bit scary and people were a bit worried he might rape me and my friend started screaming at him - while my tutor was taking the register - "fuck off you bleach headed freak, why don't you just fuck off and die!!" A year or two later I was having a drink with this guy called F (who I went out with for 2 weeks when I was 16 until I realised that you can't go out with someone just because they're hot, especially if they're a Jehovah's Witness and have irritating tics and write really terrible poetry) and he said that he'd seen this guy at some inter-university debating competition, and that they'd had to compete against each other. F seemed to be losing the debate, so in desperation, he shouted out "yeah, well, I had sex with Harriet!" and the other guy's face was like, oh.

Anyway, so my pc, stereo, mobile, phone... all broken. Then I get to work this morning and yet more technology fuck ups await as the phone system is broken AGAIN. It's this stupid phone system, probably second hand, but from Israel - which means that no one in this country knows how to fix it when it breaks down (and this is a pretty regular occurance). So some engineers come out, try to unplug the other computer, faff around, go to the basement where the system is housed, blah blah blah, and I'm thinking HANG ON A SECOND! It's Israeli! I don't want to use it! (and as I was writing that, it broke again...)

I am so tired of this. I am so bored and constantly on the verge of tears. I cried because I didn't like the engineer. I cried because I went past the park on the bus. I am so sick of myself and I am so sick of being sick all the time. I am scared to eat because I'll be sick. S reckons my insides must be made of Teflon to deal with the amount of alcohol I drink, and my very poor diet. Teflon hats. That's me. But my insides are messed up. And my head is all over the place, and I am generally unhappy. Yay me. I'm so tired.

I had a good weekend though. After work on Friday I went to the Slug and Lettuce and discussed travelling and vegetarianism with people from work, which was really nice. Afterwards I went to the park with T and we got locked in, which was pretty funny. A park ranger is meant to come round at kicking out time (ie sunset) but no one came, and we had to climb over the fence. When I was younger (like 17 or so) I used to climb over the fence of Hyde Park and go to the childrens playpark, but my fence climbing skills have not been utilised much recently. Anyway, it was fun, but when I got home I realised that actually I talk way too much and I should shut the fuck up. So I cracked open another bottle of wine and, er, called #1. By this point I was really drunk and I was rambling on about "poisonous venom, he's just venom, snaking around, y'know, I don't like it, I don't like the venom" while falling off my bed and generally being a buffoon. I also told #1 that I was so sweaty that if I was to die at that very second, I wouldn't need embalming, they could stick me straight in the mausoleum. Why I say things like this, I don't know (other than the simple explanation that I'm a complete twat).

On Saturday I woke up having been dreaming about auto-cannibalism. Cannibalism eh. There was a boy at my school who cut a bit of flesh off his leg and cooked it and ate it. But that's by the by. I went to meet R at the Vauxhall City Farm. It's really cool there, everyone should go. We took a picnic and ate it under the awning of a little house. A black and white cat - a large kitten really - sat with us, and children were running around. I like the City Farms, for all the inner city children who otherwise wouldn't see animals other than those dangerous dogs that seem to be everywhere. Vauxhall Farm is tiny, but it's like a proper oasis, as you don't realise you're only 5 minutes away from the station. The animals were cool. There were some ferrets, and initially I thought they were a bit gross (they go up your trouser leg, given half a chance) but one of them was trying to climb up to where I was, and had such a cheeky little face, that I just liked him a lot. I'm going to go to some of the other city farms, I feel so distant from the countryside nowadays. I grew up surrounded by fields and now I can't tell one crop from another, or different types of animals or anything. I don't know whether I want to know about the countryside per se, I guess I just don't want to not know things that I used to know. If that makes sense. In the evening I went over to Harlesden and had fancy food and talked lots. Hot gossip and all that. S is a really lovely girl, though she hasn't seen the Lion King. She told me that she maybe knows this one particular girl and now part of me wants it to be her and the other part of me doesn't, and the whole thing makes me want to cry/vomit. Why? I'm not sure. I can't pretend she doesn't exist... but I'd like to. Oh hell, I don't want to think about her. How can someone I've never met be messing with my head so much?

Yesterday I had another nice day, although I got completely freaked out on the streets of Camden. I really suck sometimes. I always feel so nervous. I was on the train and I had this knot in my stomach, and then walking along the street, I was actually terrified. I used to be able to cope with all these sorts of things, but now I can't. But it was okay, cos I met up with B and we went to a nice cafe/gallery place where they had rock'n'roll deckchairs. B is such a sweet girl. I smiled most of the way home (until I started reading my book and then I cried).

I got back about 9, because N said that he would ring at 9. Then I sat and stared at my phone for three and a half hours. Nothing. I tried not staring at it, but I couldn't help it. I drank some wine and read my book. But nothing. In the end I switched the phone off and on again, and it said I had two voicemail... So he had rung. This is what I mean about technology. It hates me. I liked listening to the voicemail but it made me sad - or, more accurately, even sadder.

#1 told me about a conversation she had with #4. It went like this:

Him: I just thought, before I move out... You know I went on holiday? Well I've got loads of cheap fags, if you're interested....
Her: Are you kidding me? I don't even want to talk to you.
Him: But this is different, this is business!

For some reason it has become the funniest thing ever and it is used as the answer to everything. I desperately want #4 to leave. I will feel so much better when he is gone, and I can maybe try to relax a little bit in my house. That would be nice. I have just written such a pile of shit. Can someone give me a hug now please? Thanks.