Coffeespoons and T S Eliot

So apparently this blog makes me seem normal, but I don't believe that for a second. I reckon it makes me seem incredibly stupid, but whatevs, this is my giving-a-fuck face. I'm sure that in real life I'm so much more well-adjusted than the drivel I write here. Having said that, people keep telling me that that there is something "dark" within me. So maybe I don't disguise it as well as I should. I don't feel well today. Yesterday I smashed my head against the bathroom shelf and I have a proper lump on my head now, which makes me feel particularly special. It has transformed into a migraine and I feel rough as fuck.

The weekend was quite hilarious really. I went out for some pints after work and found out that people (from work) have been bitching about me behind my back, which is always quite amusing. I'm not really bothered, as what they're saying isn't even true, but it's quite annoying how everyone talks about stuff they have no idea about. Like, what the fuck, where did these stories even come from?? I heard another story a couple of weeks ago and was like WHAT?? I think these people need to get a life or a hobby or something. Their lives must be so devoid of excitement if I am the hot topic of conversation. Anyway, the pub was cool cos there was good company and I had a really good time, but that's all I'm saying about it.

The shit kinda hit the fan later on when I went to Crush and my friend was selling us four drinks for £2.70, and me and S got pretty damn pissed and took emo pictures and at some point I started crying, like actually weeping about N's ex-girlfriend (who, let's face it, is blatantly so inferior to me) and then I have very vague recollections about the rest of the night but I think it may have included me vomiting and having my picture taken with a whole load of Indonesian kids and me telling people I was so happy to see them when really I didn't give a toss and getting a stamp on my forehead. And telling one of my secrets but the vast quantity of alcohol consumed means (hopefully) that all this is forgotten. I went back to S's, but not before getting the worlds nicest sandwich and some vodka and some (stolen) jaffa cakes.

I woke up far too late and with such a pain in my hip, and legged (ha!) it home to find mini-Lamb sitting on the front steps of my house. A pleasant day was passed eating and chatting and finding out my pc is pretty fucked (Windows apparently needs reinstalling as it seems to have corrupted in some way, god knows what this even means), then we headed into town and wandered down to the South Bank. Next to the National Theatre, there's an open space where there's different music/drama/dance performances every day, so we watched a real life version of a silent movie, which was cool. We also went in a caravan that is an art gallery. After that, we strolled up to the Tate Modern and saw some frankly rather bizarre "art". That evening I cooked some food (and introduced my brother to the delights of chickpeas) and we watched Vanilla Sky. I've seen it before, but that was four years ago, and I cried all the way through it that time, so it was cool to watch it without being such an emotional ruin. I was reminded of how I was feeling back then, and the reasons I had been crying and I just thought "what a dick" (that being me). It's like, how to fuck up your life in one simple step... But I don't know if I'd do it any differently. Actually, fuck that shit, of course I would. But hindsight is a beautiful thing.

Yesterday we woke up quite late and went over to the Imperial War Museum, where we met up with the kids I used to look after and their mum. We saw the Animals at War exhibition, which the kids really liked, but I just thought meh, a dog with a parachute, whatevs. It was cool to see them all though, they're such a charming family. Afterwards mini-Lamb and I went back to Herne Hill and I took him to the Commercial, because a visit to Herne Hill without going to the Commercial is hardly a visit at all. A storm broke out and the roof started leaking. We headed into town and met up with S, which was cool. Apparently me and mini-Lamb are very similar and we have expressions that are the same, which is a bit odd as we never really hung out together much when we were growing up, him being five years younger than me. I like spending time with him though, he's a nice kid. After he went home I stayed out for some more and ended up falling asleep in a chair (that's what happens if you have a nice blanket!) and being grumpy, for which I must apologise.

I have so much stuff to do and I haven't done literally anything in so long. My room looks terrible and I need to do sensible stuff like clean the windows and do all my hand-washing. I need to sort out my loan. I need to find someone who knows about computers to come and re-install Windows. I need to stop sleeping the wrong way round in my bed. But instead, I make arrangements to go out. Tonight, I should really go home as my head feels like it might explode. But instead I'm meeting up with G, and then tomorrow I'm seeing SB, and the next day god knows what, and the next day and the next day... But I think I need things to cheer me up. Tomorrow I go for my hip x-ray, which I'm a bit wary about. Also, the radiographer will think I'm a skank as I'm not going to shave my legs. But that's okay, right? I think it's the least of my worries, to be honest.

Sooner or later, this house-of-cards existence I have created is going to fall to shit.