General synopsis: rubbish

Having nearly died of boredom at work yesterday, the evening was slightly more exciting but in a really shit way. I got home and tried to sit with the others but I couldn’t face inane conversation and a fight over whether we could put the news on or whether it should be some shitty brainless codswallop. I sorted out some of my scrapbook (at long last) and generally pottered around. And then ran out of things to do. I went to make some food, not because I was hungry but because I was bored, but the pitiful state of my fridge makes for very boring cooking. After reading the Evening Standard and pointing out the article slating #4’s company, I went to harass #1, who has been revising hard. I intended to go in and just get a hug but I ended up sitting on her bed, crying, and having a long talk. She sees through me so well, she could tell that I was going to cry. I mean, for fuck’s sake, #2 has been in the same room as me while I’m actually crying and she didn’t even notice/care. #1 is properly lovely. The reasons for me being unhappy at the moment are quite complex and I don’t know if I will write them all here at the moment. Main immediate concern is the fact that I don’t have a job. It is making me feel ill, yet at the same time I can’t seem to do anything about it thanks to my total ineptness. C has been very sweet and has given me a list of agencies I should try. Though if you see me living in a gutter in a couple of weeks, you’ll know why.