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Of Eastbourne and tartan rugby, 5:46 pm
The boy�s safely tucked away downstairs watching one rugby match after another, so you�ve got me for some time. I�m currently downloading old Disney films, after someone finally told me how to put random video files onto my iPod without having to buy them off stupid iTunes. Suffering with the mother of all sinus explosions... it feels like God�s reaching down from heaven and pressing my head down with a big thumb as I wander about my day. Please stop, God - you�re making my head hurt and my face feel weird.
Anyway, despite all that things are fine. Well, nothing catastrophic�s happened anyway. My dad�s being a bit of a cock again, and work�s a complete nightmare and tiring me out, and I�m feeling a bit flat from the resulting tiredness, but it�s not like I have leprosy or anything. Work is a bit trying though - my workload�s suddenly exploded after a very quiet autumn, the CT machine�s bust its x-ray source, which will cost a casual �15,000 to replace, and we�re due to move labs soon, which has to happen by June 9th and definitely won�t happen by June 9th and will be a complete nightmare to orchestrate.
Basically our floor at work is going to become this internationally recognised institute for bone research, which sounds great in practice, but in reality is going to completely mental to organise. Plus, there�s going to be a dreadful opening day (on the aforementioned June 9th) where a load of cancer bods will wander about being introduced to the post docs and assorted lackeys (eg. me), followed by a dignified piss-up with the bods where I�ve been told I have to sing with Andy accompanying me. I have no idea what kind of songs you are meant to sing at these kinds of things. Ones about bones, I guess.
My dad is going on holiday with Amandroid and her daughter to Eastbourne. He rang me last weekend and asked me if I wanted to go, in a very absent way, and obviously I don�t as the last holiday I went on with him and A-Rod was a complete disaster, but I said I�d think about it as I felt bad. I rang my sister, who had also been asked to go, and it turned out that she�d known about it for ages, and had been asked originally so that Ella (the daughter) would have had some company and not brought her best friend along who is heartily disapproved of. And there would then have been two cars, and so my dad and Amandroid could have tootled off and done their own thing. Typical selfish behaviour from them. My dad had never planned on asking me to come, just Al, and only asked me because Al told him to. Suffice to say, neither of us are going. Obviously it doesn�t matter on one level as I don�t want to go anyway, but it�s just the principle of it all. My dad seems to be getting more selfish the older he gets, and oh, who cares anyway?
In another bold attempt to feel more like a grown-up, I finally have my own ISA. Me and James had a very fun chat about ISAs last weekend over a cup of tea, and I�ve now got one. In other worrying news, I turn 24 in less than a fortnight. I think I�m going to celebrate the day with Mexican food and lots of beer.
Went to a big pub quiz last night with work, which worked out brilliantly as it meant I missed the entirety of Comic Relief. Our team came second (missed out on first place by one buggering mark), thanks almost entirely to James and his enormous brain. We won �15 and bought a round of drinks with it for the 6-man team, but by half ten I felt suddenly exhausted and strangely flat and just wanted to go home. I also felt completely sober, which I don�t think helped. April will mark year 3 of the ME, and though I�m feeling so very much better I do wish it would go completely. I�ve put so much hard work into recovering from it, and feel like I deserve it to leave now and not hang on so hard. And that�s all I have to say about that.
Making curry tonight, in an attempt to clear my face tubes. I have a sneaking suspicion I�ll be cooking it as it�s Scotland playing in the rugby right now. There are shouts of �Oh no!� coming from downstairs, so I may go hum O Flower Of Scotland comfortingly and try to get in the spirit of things. Formula One is starting soon too, which makes me want to kill things a little bit. Anyway, time to go support the tartan.
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