Wallowing in self-pity

Hours and hours on from my previous post, I am still feeling ill and still can’t face writing anything of note in my blog. I have drunk so much lemsip I think I might be sick, and I have had a horrible day at work, with loads of moronic people calling up and being mean to me. One man even called me stupid. I have since discovered that he is a serial pest and should be ignored. Still, he pissed me off.

I can’t wait til I can get in bed with my pyjamas on and watch dvd’s. I have a little stockpile of films reserved for when I’m feeling ill, though they’re always too highbrow for me when I’m not well, and I end up watching stuff like ‘Shrek’ or (for the millionth time) ‘Peep Show’. Actually, the ‘Peep Show’ dvd isn’t even mine, I borrowed it from Legend ages ago. I really should return it, not least so I can justify borrowing series 2. Incidentally, despite living in a shared house, I still haven’t fully utilised my housemates cd and dvd collections, which I really should do, as they have pretty good taste (and I am rapidly running out of music). Maybe that’s a plan for the evening.

Other things I have to do tonight (‘have to’ is perhaps not right, but my lemsip addled brain can’t be arsed to think of the right word):
- cook a large pot of food (probably chana masala as it’s cheap and simple, plus I’m sure curry is good for a cold, or something like that)
- do some washing as amazingly, I am running out of clothes, or at least, I’m running out of clothes I actually like
- buy some milk so I don’t have to steal my housemates every time I want a cup of tea (I hope they don’t read this- it’s only been a few cups, honest!)
- try and sort out my new phone, as I got it nearly a week ago now and I still don’t know how to even switch it on and I have to use the old one
- fill in job applications so I don’t have to stay in this horrible job for the rest of my life
- laugh to myself about the really good reference I just got for my masters
- obsessively check my phone every ten seconds to see if a certain someone has called.

There’s other stuff I should probably do as well, actually, but it’s all sensible stuff like cleaning my room, retrieving my ash tray (it fell off my window ledge and is lying in the garden… it’s probably been nicked by now actually), calling my mum, etc etc.
Pretty fucking amazingly, I have actually been able to write quite a lot. The two possible options are that I am either feeling okay (unlikely as I feel like I’ve been trampled by bulls) or I am desperately trying to pass the time until home time. I wonder which.