Don't you know that things aren't getting better
01.10.06, 10:41 pm

God, I think I�m dying. I think this is actually death. The ME is completely unimpressed with having to share my ass kicking with the virus that has temporarily settled down, and together they�re making being alive a bad thing. It�s also totally unfair that Lisa was only slightly affected by the monster TB virus, despite spending a lot more time with Linda than I did.

However, I�m feeling very pleased with myself as I managed to go to work on Friday despite feeling shit. I�m starting proper proper Science tomorrow � Dr X-ray is teaching me how to use his beloved CT Microscopy machine thing, which will probably be fun for about 90 seconds. This is preferable to tissue cutting though, which I�m decidedly rubbish at and quite embarrassed to do in the presence of tissue cutting masters Mini Boss and Indie Chick.

I�d like to say at this point, seeing as John�s disabled his notes, that I think it�s completely insane that he�s decided to not write another entry until 2007, and see no logic in it whatsoever. I think it�s completely manageable to both write creatively and bash out diary entries (mine clearly go through little planning and structuring), and will miss him not updating a massive amount. I wish he'd change his mind.

Anyway, Michelle came up yesterday afternoon AND she bought me chocolates. There is no easier way to my heart than through the medium of cocoa. Hannah also eventually turned up after getting severely lost on the way. Michelle�s so fantastic; she drove us to KFC where we bought a huge bucket of greasy goodness, before going back to the flat and eating it in front of X Factor. And then she squished the giant spider that decided to make an appearance.

Me: Is it dead?
Michelle: I think so, yeah.
Me: Really? Are you sure though? Because if it�s not then it�ll just crawl back out of the bin and attack us in our sleep.
Michelle: Well, I�ve just felt its bones crunch between my fingers, so yeah; I reckon it�s dead.

If I could carry a mini Michelle around in my pocket I definitely would. Anyway, we went to Em�s after that for a while and did lots of arguing over what to watch on the wondrous Freeview box.

Em (flicking down telly menu): Can we watch Casualty? We could play the Medics Drinking Game then.
Me: What drinking game?
Em: Every time they make a mistake you do a shot.
Me: That is way too medicy and geeky, Em, you need to come back to the real world.
Michelle: Ooh, go two down and two across.
Telly: STRIPTEASE.
Me: Ha! Good choice, Michelle.

Michelle and Hannah both ended up stopping at the flat, so I spent the night on the sofa. They left quite early this morning, and I�ve since spent the day either on the phone or watching telly. Mel rang me for the last time, as she�s off to South Africa tomorrow for three months, and we spent a whole hour talking about sodding fuckfacing Iain. Just when I thought we were finally rid of him she turns around and says that they�re thinking of getting back together. AAARRGGH. Why do people do this? Why do they willing go back to emotionally challenged wankers? What is the point? Surely being single is preferable to the neverending angst and feeling like shit. Had to ring Becky immediately after just to vent about it all.

Anyway, another week of work is fast approaching. I should probably go to bed now to avoid a repeat of last Thursday, but I have zero motivation. Man, I was so prematurely smug about my whole "I'm completely unsad!" thing from last entry. Enough of that though, I might just go have a bath and count woodlice. Baths are always good.

last - next