Of feeling better and my gran
11.02.10, 7:51 am

Oh God, that last entry was quite depressing. I can hardly bear to read through it. I have a really bad habit of deleting downbeat entries, because I�ve invariably cheered up by the time I next come to write and consequently feel embarrassed about them. However, I shall resist this time, otherwise this journal just reads like that of a fairy cupcake princess�s where nothing bad ever happens and life is consistently lovely.

Needless to say, I have got through the Traumatic Ill Patch. I went to the doctor on Monday and was diagnosed with gastritis (mmm, disease of the alcoholic) after being poked and prodded and quizzed about my stress levels (Dr: What is it you do? Me: I�m a research technician. It�s an incredibly unstressful job). He was also supremely uninterested in my palpitation woes, which is definitely the correct attitude to have. Anyway, I moped about at James�s for the rest of the afternoon watching an entire series of Raven, which is the best kids program I�ve seen in a long time. Kind�ve like Knightmare, but filmed in rainy Scotland instead of in front of a cheap green screen. And then, miraculously, started feeling a bit better in the evening. Sod�s law, I guess.

Anyway, I�m feeling a lot better now � I can eat meals that don�t just consist of dry toast, and can lie down without feeling like I�m about to have a heart attack, so it�s all good. I dunno, I think my emotions just went a bit haywire for a while � you know there�s something wrong when you find the Kleenex advert a bit upsetting � and made me think I was going a little crazy. Which is never nice.

I�m back at work and wishing that I wasn�t. We have students coming soon and I�ve inexplicably been put in charge of them, which is surely not a good idea. We also had a depressing meeting last Friday as a research group to discuss the fact that there�s absolutely no money in scientific research at the moment, and that things are going to get quite horrible soon. I�d love to say that my job is secure but I actually don�t know if it is.

My gran is 81 today. She�s taken to ringing me every two or three days and then refusing to get off the phone, spouting on and on about utter rubbish whilst I try unsuccessfully to wind things up. Why do people do this? I always think it�s blatantly obvious that I want to end the conversation, but then just when I think I�m safe and start with the �Okay, well I�ll ring you at the weekend� she suddenly begins on a long tirade against taxi drivers/Tesco online shopping (�not as good as Sainsbury�s, Holly!�)/people queuing at Boots. I�m going down to see her not this weekend but next, and will have to start working on my inane chit-chat tolerance. I was going to go down this weeked, but then was told not to because it�s Valentine�s Day (�What do you mean, you don�t really do anything for Valentine�s Day? Oh my God, Holly! Why not, WHY NOT??�)

I�m still reading Germalin by Zola. The utter poverty and misery is making me seriously depressed. I also read The Book Thief by Markus Zusak at the weekend, and that was bloody depressing as well. I need happier books. Maybe I�ll read Harry Potter again. The earlier ones, obviously.

Better go to work, I suppose.

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