It's the return of..........

101 reasons not to use google.
Well, 1 reason really. Never google your medical records. Gone are the days when you had to crane your neck to catch the odd word on your GP's screen, which would invariably be something like "asthma" or "tonsilitis" anyway - ergo, not that interesting.

No no, the real interest to be had is nowadays when they have to send a copy of all correspondence to your house. And I, of course, google everything I find. I'm just so glad I didn't get this when I was at the psychiatric hospital (google "borderline personality disorder" and tell me why I didn't feel suicidal - on a related but different note, how do I tell my mum about my scars? Christ, I'm so emo and teenage). Anyway, OMG google really is a fountain of knowledge. B tells me not to assume I know anything from just the internet (as he points out, I can't exactly quit work and become a hip surgeon based on my limited knowledge), but still - was I not listening when they said they would have to dislocate my leg by putting big weights on the end and then potentially sawing my bone in half and pinning it back together? Also, that they will use a vacuum cleaner of sorts to suck out random fragments of bone? My body disgusts me.

Also, it appears the only way I can get an appointment with my consultant before my pre-admission is by going to A&E. Is this a good use of my time? I don't think so. Part of me just wants to get run over and then they'd be forced to fix me. As I pointed out to B earlier, I have more chance of being run over and killed than any of the British forces have of being killed in Iraq. Still, the army sounds fucking wack, not least because I'm a flat footed half blind feminist pacifist.

Maybe I'm just grumpy today. It's a week until I see J. I feel really crap in general. Things in the flat are weird again, for reasons that are too complicated to explain. There's a mouse that lives on the balcony. I still haven't done my dissertation. I don't know whether I care any more. When people ask, I talk about my thereoretical frameworkl and that while I agree with Foucault's idea of "docile bodies" and his dismissal of cartesian dualism, I don't know how relevant it is to post-socialist China. This basically means, I have lots of ideas but I'll never have the guts to articulate them.

My firefox is broken. My computer hates me. My life hates me. Yes, I'm pre-menstrual, this might be some (or all?) of the problem. I don't know. For now I am tempted to try and suffocatre myself with a pillow, when in reality I will lie in bed for a while being miserable until I fall asleep and have generally unsatisfactory dreams.

Oh my god I am so fucking emo, I am just glad I have blonde hair or I would be drafted into play in whatever emo bands are called, "my best friend is a razor blade" or whateverer the fuck.

I think it's time for bed, I've got to be CHIRPY and HAPPY and GREAT tomorrow. You know it comes so naturally. I just want to stay in bed and perfect my zenophobic impressions of aussies (one aussie in particular - what can I say, I may have watched neighbours once or twice). Get a fucking grip Potter, it's not the end of the world.

Potter's so way not hotter than anything at all :(