Bit depressed
18th July 2005, 11:05 am

This day isn't going very well at all, and can only get worse. I've managed to lose my work swipecard - have a horrible feeling that someone has stolen it at some point during our two parties this weekend - so can't get into the labs easily, and may have to complete the awful task of telling admin that I've lost it after only two weeks. I was then ambushed on the way to work by three Jehovah's Witnesses, who were walking through the park. They don't wear black anymore and carry briefcases, they wear flowery dresses and hang around on public footpaths.

They gave me a leaflet entitled "Life in a Peaceful New World" which has a scene on the front depicting children stroking lions and bears, whilst their parents walk past with baskets of fruit in their arms. I've pinned it to the noticeboard by my desk, in the hope that it'll make my day marginally better, but I'll probably end up taking it home with me and adding it to my Wall of Crap.

I've also forgotten my phone today, due to the mad search for the swipecard this morning, so can't even ask any of my housemates to look for me. If someone has nicked it I shall go ballistic.

Anyway, I think I'm in the middle of a massive downer at the moment. I got quite drunk Friday night (Em's friends were all down from home), and ended up doing gin shots and nearly vomitting everywhere, as I can't drink gin. It brings back memories of getting wasted on it when I was 14/15 and waking up with the most god-awful hangover imaginable. Consequently, even the smell of it makes me want to heave, so I must've been quite far gone to have been able to do shots. I got to bed late, woke up early for the post and didn't have a hangover. Woo.

Saturday I was just depressed for no known reason, and spent most of the night in my room, reading Harry Potter, whilst the second party was going on. I got more drunk than Friday, fell asleep accidently at midnight, woke up at three when Becky got home from work, tried to sober up properly and then went to bed again. Woke up hungover. Bugger it.

Sunday was spent either in bed or sat outside feeling sorry for myself. I felt better in the evening but the lowness remained, and I almost slipped into bad habits, but thankfully didn't. Lisa rang and I spoke to her for a while, though I'm pretty sure I was appalling company, and then Becky got home from work. We ended up talking till one in the morning (she's going home today until after September), so I'm a bit knackered today. It made me feel a little better though.

Today, however, I'm back to feeling miserable, so woo. I really want to go home, but obviously can't for at least another 5 hours. Plus I'm on sodding PCRs all day too, just to add to the depression. I've also just gone on the Dispatch website, as the Dispatch is the local Hucknall paper, and Mark's suicide is there in all its glory.

Bad day, bad bad day.

Sidenote: Can I just ask, why is it that I play depressing songs to myself when I'm already quite depressed enough? Seriously, am I masochistic or something? In my very blue period last night, I found myself playing my Life Crisis song to myself, which is Damien Rice - Cold Water. When I was in the thick of my anxiety craziness, around March time, I used to play that song over and over again, particularly the part where he sings "Lord, can you hear me now, or am I lost?" because it summed up exactly how I was feeling.

This is all well and good, but there is NO NEED to play it when I'm feeling a wee bit down, because of course it's just going to induce crapness. I should maybe go home and play happy songs incessently; bit of Basement Jaxx or something.

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