Sleeping doesn't fix it
03.07.06, 11:02 am

So, the first piece of news worthy of being noted is probably that Lisa and me have succeeded in getting our new place, which was confirmed by the excited message Lisa left on my voicemail telling me that �We�ve got a castle!� It�s not actually a castle, unfortunately, it�s a two-bedroom apartment in a place called Walkley. It�s also on the ground floor, which means that for once I won�t have to lug my stuff up a load of mountainous stairs. But yeah, I have to go down to Sheffield on Thursday to sign the contract and stuff, and hand over about �750 for rent, deposit and insurance. I have so many horrible money worries at the moment it�s untrue, but writing about them would be counter-productive as I�d only succeed in thinking about them more, so I�ll keep it in the for time being. However, the main point is big yay, I at least have a place to live now.

However, I can�t actually move into said place until at least next Tuesday, as my dad�s going off to Amsterdam this weekend (blatant drugs run, I don�t know why he�s pretending it�s anything but). I�ve been home for four days and am already climbing the walls with boredom, and anticipate spending the week doing all the ironing in front of Wimbledon.

The other breaking story is that some anonymous cunt hacked into my email account yesterday and succeeded in both changing my password and my secret question. God knows why anyone would want to get into my inbox; it�s currently full of job application confirmations, popbitch back-editions and emails from myself with random Neuroscience journals attached from back in the days of revision. But yeah, that all resulted in me shouting and swearing at the monitor, and then trying to answer the secret question that I originally thought I must have picked years ago and forgotten the answer to: Who is your favourite historical figure? My first guess? Churchill. Because clearly I totally heart Churchill above all other historical figures. I then went on to guess Elizabeth I, Elizabeth II, Nelson, Ghandi and Martin Luther King, before resigning myself to the fact that I have no favourite historical figures, and that therefore my secret question had been changed.

And don�t get me wrong, I do like history, I�m just not obsessional about it. In any way at all actually � I only got a B at GCSE because one of the papers was solely on the EU and I decided that the EU was too boring to bother doing any revision for whatsoever. This is one of the reasons why my sister managed to get 8 A*s and 1 A and I only got 5 As and 4 Bs. Which isn�t even bad, but that�s what you get for having a genius sister. Anyway, I emailed the Hotmail people and finally got my account back, and consequently have created a password so chock-a-block full of letters, numbers and symbols that I�m bound to require five attempts to get it right each and every bloody time.

I�m going to have to have a health whinge here, which I apologise for because even I�m sick of writing the same old shit now. The moving back home and three days cleaning beforehand appears to have absolutely fucked me, and it�s horrible. This is definitely the worst that I�ve felt, and worryingly it doesn�t seem to be going away. It�s been what, four days now? And I still feel horrifically tired and like my arms and legs are four squidgy sledgehammers. I�ve been trying to write this entry for a couple of days now but kept having to give up because I couldn�t concentrate on it. I�ve honestly never felt this tired for so long; most of the time I feel like I�m wandering around in a dream, and all I can do is just sit and read or watch telly. And people keep saying that it�s okay, that I just need to rest when I get tired but it doesn�t work like that; it doesn�t matter how much resting I do or how much sleeping I do, the tiredness never goes away and I never feel any better. I really hope something shows up in my blood tests� anything, I don�t care what it is, I just want it to have a name. It can be something really horrible and I wouldn't mind, I just want to be able to call it something other than the Mystery Illness. And if you're listening, Mystery Illness, FUCKING FUCK OFF. I honestly can't handle this for much longer.

In happier news, my dad randomly bought me a second-hand mandolin as a present for my degree result. For anyone who doesn�t know, a mandolin is like a mini, sweeter-sounding guitar, although it only has 4 double strings and is tuned completely differently. It�s not got here yet so I�ve been teaching myself on my dad�s, and the strings are like cheese wire and my left hand�s consequently developing into a blacksmith hand. Clearly something that all boys will just love. It�s good fun though, and it doesn�t make my arms ache as much as the guitar, but it will take forever to sound even slightly good playing it.

I think that�s actually all my news for the time being � I�m planning on spending today watching Wimbledon and doing some ironing if I feel up to it. Which is indeed what I stated in the original paragraph � forgive me, I started writing this on Saturday. I�ve also noticed that since arriving at casa Manchester I�ve been watching too much Jeremy Kyle and it has to stop; I don�t even like the man that much but his show�s addictive. Ohh, I also applied for another job, and have to do the application form for another. Totally dreading the day I have to go back to Sheffield and decide whether I want to do horrible City Catering temp work or not.

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