Monday morning drivel. You know the score.

The good news is that I am feeling lots better. Like head-swelling-jabberwocky-disease has gone. I put the head swelling down to the vast amount of learning I have been doing. All that knowledge, you know, it's got to go somewhere. And I do have a small head, so maybe all the random facts just kinda pushed itself out, Mt St Helens styleee. I spent all of Thursday and all of Friday in bed, literally sleeping the whole time, except for brief periods where I would make more ginger drink, read a bit of F1 Racing, press buttons on my computer and talk to my mum. And my god, what misery infested conversations they were.

I seem to have lost the ability to write anything. I swear I used to be so expressive, for example, when I was a kid and I used to write stories all the time and lived in pretty much a made up world. Fair enough, at times, I guess I was a little too expressive. Earlier this year I used to get really angry all the time. I was like the angriest person in the world. Someone told me that I had an anger management problem, and you know what my response was? I slammed a door and stamped my feet and listened to angry music and then, oh my god, I swore at drivers and everything. I'm not like that now. But I worry, because for the last week, I haven't been able to express myself properly. Maybe that's partly because I've been ill, and mainly because I am crippled through missing N so much. I have been all like "oh I'm fine" but inside there is a bit of me that needs at least some of those electric shock things you see on tv. I just can’t feel anything at the moment. I have stuck pins in my hand and there is nothing. But I know that if I started to cry, I would never stop. So I am stuck in this void of nothingness. Just a melancholy that won’t go away. Or maybe it will. I don’t know. I have lost the ability to question anything or even to exist without a social framework to prop me up, so to speak. When I’m around people I’m okay. But then I get on the bus and it’s a race against time to get home before this overwhelming blackness takes over, and I just sort of slump in my seat and watch the world with vacant eyes.

It sounds pathetic, and it probably is.

Still, that – and being ill – aside, the past few days haven’t been solely unproductive, although I haven’t done the few things I was meant to do (ie. get some citronella candles (my room has been taken over by flies, and they’re pissing me off), sort out a big pile of old books and clothes, and make a card for #1’s birthday using my sub-standard art skills). On Saturday, I mooched around and ate some toast, which is pretty much all I am eating at the moment. Then I got my act in gear a little and went over to Shoreditch to go to L’s night of music and fun. I’m really glad I went actually. I have such a fear of going to new places and meeting new people, because I reckon I suck at it. But going was actually cool, as it sort of proved to me that I’m not so much of a social retard, and maybe, just maybe, I can make new friends, and maybe university won’t be such an unmitigated disaster, socially at least (I won’t consider the academic or financial side at the moment: too scary). Having said that, perhaps I was just kidding myself and actually the general consensus is that I’m a buffoon. I don’t know. I think it was cool. I met a really sweet girl and I actually said “I’ll facebook you”, which probably deserves a bullet through my temple, but there we go. I ate a marshmallow that had been on some meat on the barbeque and ran around pulling a disgusted face until I spat it out in the bush. Man, it was gross. And no one understood until they tried it too, and realised that pork flavoured marshmallows are wrong wrong wrong. What else? I have a bruise on my face from an apple fight. I almost successfully avoided having any pictures taken of me. I marvelled at just how small the world is, what with everyone seeming to know the most random people from other people’s pasts. Lots of Nelly Furtado got listened to. But yeah, it was all nice, basically.

Yesterday, I finally ran out of bread, so I couldn’t have my now quite satisfactory meal of a piece of toast and soya spread (no dairy in that, although there is the worry of the monkeys and the over farming of soya crops… and that explanation is crap, so yeah, sorry). Drama indeed. I went up to Islington to watch the football. I know… me? Football? Seemingly so. It was a rubbish game though, and the Holland v Portugal match was much better, what with the 16 yellow cards and 4 red cards, and basically, mayhem on the pitch. I played pool and proved to the world that I’m the worlds crappest pool player. But it was a good day, talking to A, having proper discussions. I miss discussions. I feel like I don’t think anymore and the only way to stop my brain from hibernating is to set myself stupid philosophical questions. I got home and chatted on msn to one of the kids I used to teach, four years ago. It was so silly, as I’m only a year and a half older than him, so I wasn't like a proper teacher or anything (and I commanded precisely zero respect). Anyway, we just hung out all the time, and rode our bikes around and he dyed my hair blue by accident. Good times.

This weekend #1 discovered skype. I have never seen anyone so excited about a bit of software (is that the right word?). The weird thing is that we have such a groundhog day situation with skype, as I’m SURE she told me about it, but then I told her about it, but she forgot... And then this weekend she found out about it again. Anyway, now we both have skype but still no headset or anything, so a bit pointless.

I can’t be bothered to re-read what I’ve just written, so apologies if it’s boring and miserable etc. It’s not all bad, I guess. N called me this morning, which was the nicest way I’ve been woken up in, oh, I think it’s ten days now. This is such a rubbish entry. I’m sure I used to be vaguely amusing, or at least, not quite so laden with apathy and utter boredom within my soul.