So I got to sleep this morning c. 2am and got up when my alarm went off at 6.40 and am consequently ANGRY AT THE ENTIRE WORLD WHY GOD WHY. See, I turned my light off and my ipod off at a roughly sensible hour—shortly before midnight—and then proceeded to spend the next two hours worrying about exams, why I was still awake, why I was cold, whether I should get another blanket, which blanket I should get, whether just huddling in the middle of my bed for another 15 minutes or so would do the trick, et cetera.

And while I was in the shower I composed a completely hilarious and literary lj/dw post about my pain and how it makes me suffer, but somewhere between there and here I have lost it all. Oh my life. Oh my life.

Things to do today:
- drink a lot of caffienated beverages
- not cry under desk
- write out notes for at least one and preferably 2 of the smaller torts while at work
- pick up squaringkarma at Borders at 5
- come home and reread/write out notes for contract formation and possibly unconscionable bargain
- write lolarious ode to leftover fish curry (it's what's for dinner) (no seriously)
- wail to my flatmates about how difficult my life is
- get to sleep before midnight, jesus fuck

Work blah this week; didn't go in today as had a headache and instead spent the day alternately sleeping and reading and knitting. Sort of tired of this whole uni thing, but have 11 weeks to go this year. Should be done with law degree by mid-2014, assuming I don't fail anything and keep going at the pace I've been going at. Feel sort of mutinous and a little weary.

Everything on my ipod is making me grumpy. I have about 29000 songs to pick from but don't want any of them. Woe is me, et cetera.

This evening I made lemon sugar cookies and wrapped up a pair of tiny, tiny pink baby shoes with ducklings to take to a baby shower for a workmate tomorrow night. Late last year she and I went out drinking with a few other workmates and ended up at the Dixon St toilets at 1am on a Friday morning, drunk off our faces and eating pies. In a few weeks, she's going to be a mum. I really like her and her partner—they're a really sweet couple who got together when she was 23 and he was 18—and I think they're going to be awesome at the parenthood thing. It's weird, though; she's by far the closest to me in age in my team (and, actually, she's 30, and there are maybe 5 staff members in the entire office in their 20s out of a staff of 85ish).

The lemon sugar cookies are really good.

I have been sleeping shittily for the past few weeks, getting about 6 hours sleep on worknights. I don't know. It takes me forever to get to sleep because my toes are cold or my nose is cold or I'm thinking about, like, the tragic/hilarious Mary-Sue of the Week and her life drama. And then I wake up every morning at twenty to seven when my alarm goes off, overheated and cranky. Sigh. I'm currently planning out my annual leave for the rest of the year. I've a week off in late August, during which I'm going to Auckland to visit my parents and jessikast, and with the 14 other days of leave I'm vaguely planning adventures.

THIS IS A POST IN UPPERCASE BECAUSE THIS IS A POST OF RAGE.

SO I WROTE MY LRW ASSIGNMENT LAST NIGHT. AND THEN I SHOWED IT TO A LAWYER AT WORK. AND SHE WAS ALL "... YOUR LEGAL REASONING IS CRAPPY!" AND I WAS LIKE "... I KNOW. *SHAMED*"

AND NOW I AM REWRITING IT. AND I DON'T IN FACT UNDERSTAND THE THINGS I THOUGHT I UNDERSTOOD. AND I USE THE WORDS "ACTUALLY" AND "IN FACT" AND "THEREFORE" AND "RELEVANT" WAY THE FUCK TOO MUCH.

... I MAY BE D/LING AMERICAN IDOL TO CHEER MYSELF UP.

THIS POST HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO YOU BY UNIVERSITY STRESS AND TOOTHACHE AND MY RIDICULOUS HABIT OF WRITING THREE WORDS AND THEN CHANGING TWO OF THEM.

Today a sad thing happened. My latest lot of headphones, which I bought sometime between moving into this flat and Christmas, have died horribly: only one channel works and that isn't very good for anything in stereo. *sadfaced*

The really dumbassed thing: I don't have the receipt, and apparently I paid in cash—which is so entirely unlike me. EFTPOS is pretty much the best thing in the world, my current account has no transaction fees, and nobody in New Zealand blinks an eye when you put a $2 purchase on your debit card. So the fact that I apparently, on or about the 9th of December, had enough cash to buy a pair of decent headphones is FUCKING WEIRD. And now I can't get them exchanged, because of course the shop wants proof of purchase.

So here's hoping tamarillow still has the pair of stock-standard Apple earbuds I gave her when I gave her my old iPod, because going for the next week with no music in my head? A dreadful thought.

So currently I'm suffering from some kind of period-related ragetastic voyage into the heart of why my back hurts and my life sucks and contemplating taking to my bed with a hot water bottle and, like, the trashiest fuckin' romance novel I can find in this house—which, like, dudes, this is MY HOUSE and there are like eight hundred romance novels of varying levels of trash from which I can pick.

I'm totally not even kidding about that number, either.

I don't know. I generally feel that, like, the reason I thought the stupid fucking tutorial I had to sit through yesterday was a complete waste of my time is because it was all shit I have to know for my actualfax job, and maybe I should be more sympathetic to the nineteen year olds who haven't themselves ever had to format a fisheries regulation. And I think the other reason why I thought it was a complete waste of time is that shark week is coming and that makes me angry.

Sometimes I think it would be easier to be a dude and all, except I have this kind of hazy belief formulated by what I've seen on television and in slash fanfiction that dudes don't generally have social norms in their friend circles that allow them to, like, lie down on their flatmate's thighs while watching Dancing With The Stars and demanding headrubs because (a) their lives are, like, tragic, and (b) they're about to start bleeding from the crotch.

I have a lot of fucking ridiculous Angry tags to choose from. My life: source of amusement to at least me and hopefully other people too.

I got new lenses today, so now I'm feeling kind of wonky—like, the floor is too close and my hands are too small and there's way more curvature if I look to the side (this is a thing difficult to explain: basically, if I look out the side of my glasses closest to the arms, straight lines appear curved and have an orange glow on one side and a blue glow on the other). I also got my hair dyed. Now I am going to go and do homework and then SLEEEEEP.

( the lj post i couldn't make for 5 fucking days )

Telecom has finally come to the party with... dialup. Yes, dialup. 30 days of free dialup, while we wait for our broadband to be reconnected. If our broadband is not connected in that time, we will get another 30 days of free dialup.

You can only open, like, 2 tabs at once. It kind of sucks. Pants.

But darthsappho brought round her old dialup modem so we do have internet! WHOO!

last post from this house have idk a couple of hours work before i can go to bed and we have to be up by six so we can do last-minute shit and take the cats to the new house and then i'll come back and sit with tamarillow on the back lawn and hug and cry as the three strong men carry our acres of crap down the hill.

we got like half the kitchen - more than half, most of it - done today, as in to the new house and unpacked and it kind of looks like something that will be my home soon. but not yet. and the curtains are hung. and nishatalitha vacuumed the house. and there's linen for the first night, so actually all we absolutely HAVE to do with the piles of shit tomorrow is put some things in the bathroom and set up the beds and make them. it would be good, naturally, to get a bit more done - it'd be nice, in fact, to have most of the work done before we all go away for christmas, so we don't come back to a pile of boxes. but.

our new landlord had a chat to our old ones and has heard good things about us and has expressed the desire - semi-jokingly - that we find the move so traumatising that we don't do it again for years and years. i'm already traumatised and it ain't half over. at least on friday i can go get pissed at the work christmas shindig and then go grocery shopping. whee!

My jeans feel skeezy. My other jeans are in the wash. I think I'm going to have to, like, wear work pants tomorrow as I'm racing round town buying a stereo and viewing houses in fucking Karori. This feels rather like sacrilege as it is WEEKEND and weekend is not the proper habitat of black trousers. IDK, maybe it'll make me look more respectable and people will give me discounts and/or let me rent their houses?

This weekend is going to be busy: tomorrow is the aforesaid stereo-purchasing and flat-hunting; Sunday is possibly going to a guy whose lj name I forget to cut back ivy, dependent upon what time I'm meeting clockworkflight - uh, does 3.30pm or 4pm sound vaguely right to you, dude? I don't know that I'd feel right buying tequila any earlier, but that's never stopped me before. Monday is going to be my recovery day, and also hopefully my "getting rid of old clothes and generally tidying room" day, dependent on what time I get home and how hungover I am. PLAN.

Also I bought Spore today, which does not work on my computer but does work on nishatalitha's, so we hung out in her room and it was like a flashback to 1998, only back then we were playing way uglier games and also not recommending each other porn. The computer thing is only relevant for the next week, because today I also bought myself a new computer (this one: not fast enough for gaming, not enough storage left for all the tv I keep meaning to watch). Greta - sans harddrives - is going to tamarillow. It's like the circle of life!

Terms assignment done. Crappily. Going to bed: am hugely elated that I don't have to work on it on my actual birthday, and even more elated that it's not due until 4pm so I don't have to leave for town until about 1pm. WHEE.

Am going to be 25. Have not done anything with life, am having quarter-life crisis only it's probably more like third-life crisis oh my god. HEY is that not a computer game or some kind of massive online RPG with avatars and islands and shit, I think I signed myself up for that once.

Today I bought awesome greenish-grey elfin ankle boots with a bow and a collar and a zip down the side - awesome because of their innate qualities, but also awesome because I got them on sale for $35, down from $180. WHEE.

I do not know what I want to eat for dinner. WOE.

So tonight I was the first one home, and so of course when I got to the front door it was locked. And I opened my handbag and rummaged around searching for what I just knew would open it: my electronic keycard for work. Yeah.

Today I have achieved study! I am currently taking a break from that so the things I have reminded myself of stick in my head (maybe) and also because I lost all concentration. Also I blew up some Mayans playing Civ IV (with nuclear weapons. I felt guilty, even in game-land. Weird, that) and won because my culture was AWESOME. And Victorian, so presumably corseted! Yay!

Even I can't follow my thoughts sometimes. If this is true, how can I expect anyone else to? *sadface*

Ooh, but I'm fairly confident that I'm learning things - even if I have no attention-span worth mentioning (although I have!) - even if I don't understand why I can sit at work coding the same damn document for hours on end, sometimes days, for weeks and months through revisions and massive structural overhauls and the lawyers passing me pages and pages of handwritten amendments to make, and yet I cannot sit down on a day off work and do more than 2 hours of schoolwork before having to go and be somewhere else. I think I'd make a good lawyer, but I'm damned sure I don't make a good law student.

Maybe I should listen to some Dire Straits and read some fic and eat some dinner and then tackle the NZ drinking age law reform issue we did: no longer relevant in my life AT ALL, but I'm pretty sure I can remember most of the main players from class, and if not I can always use my BA to good effect and bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

We are just now being ENORMOUSLY OBNOXIOUS order-y people with Red Tomatoes on Kelburn, where we are trying to get pizza and desserts delivered to our home. They don't have a menu online so we're forced by dint of NONE OF US BEING WILLING TO COOK to make the poor girl give us the menu over the phone, and it looks like this has been successful as tamarillow is now paying.

It's cold and we're all lazy and sick; I haven't left the house in days; and, my god, I'm sitting an exam in two and a bit days and I am entirely unprepared. That could be the cold, though.

I have characters in my head all of the time, see, and they say things like: "No! I am not advocating for you to do a revue consisting entirely of Fleetwood Mac covers! Sort out your own life dramas, honestly. *sigh*" It'd almost be enough to make me write fic again, except that I can't think of any way I could work that into a story without it being a bandom Mary Sue. And Mary Sues are awesome fun IN MY HEAD, but I don't think that makes them readable for other people.

Um. Tonight tofulope came round and we looked at a lot of websites devoted to modest clothing - some of the sites were really cool, and some were clearly designed by people who had no knowledge of how html or whatever they were coding in worked, and thus were almost impossible to navigate and also terribly ugly. There was also one site which made dinging noises whenever you scrolled over a link - as tofulope said, definitely My First Website.

Still haven't tidied my room. Have four more days off and then back to work - that really doesn't feel like very long.

cactus_cat pointed out to me that I'm not using my journal anymore, that this is turning into a place where I record the things that I did, rather than the things that I thought about and the things that interested me. And she's right, I am: this is turning into something that will let me know the exact date on which I saw Movie X but won't tell me what I thought about it. And since I wanted this to be a journal which recorded how I felt at age whatever, that's a problem.

But. But, like.

But, and there aren't really any buts, but there are, there's always another side to the coin or equation or story or analogy, but but but.

But I'm working in a dead-end job which depresses and angers and frustrates me (and it's the frustration that's the problem, more than anything else), and I know I'm smart and interesting enough to get a better job but even though I know that (but) I can't quite get up the courage or the energy or the drive to actually look for anything better, let alone apply.

It sucks. It sucks and it bites and it's almost like a vampire, but not a cool and attractive vampire like Spike, more like an annoying little minion-vampire that someone turned because they were bored and didn't have anything better to do of a Sunday afternoon. It's the sum of all of my problems (all of my issues): that I'm insecure and nervous and prone to the belief that nobody with standards would hire me (and, really, nobody with standards has, yet); that, more than anything else, I'm scared of trying to change my situation because I'm scared of what will happen (how I'll feel) if I fail.

I have faith in the yet, that things will improve, that someday I'll be in a job I actually enjoy. It's the fantasy that gets me up and out of the house in time to catch an eight am bus - that, and the prospect of a McDonald's bacon, egg, and cheese bagel for breakfast. But the faith is blind, as most faith is - I expect it to happen without doing anything to make it so, and I'm whittling my life away instead in a job I hate.

And, there, I hate my job. I like it occasionally - brief moments where I feel I've actually achieved something, helped someone who needed (but... who really needs to buy a silver choker for their mother-in-law?) to be helped - but mostly it's just hours and hours of dusting and serving and working out simple arithmetic in my head because there isn't anything better to do except for daydreaming about Draco Malfoy being fucked by Harry Potter. It's not the shittiest job I've ever worked, but I've only ever worked shitty jobs.

So I watched Oprah today, while my ovaries made their presence felt and my pink-and-white scarf grew in length. The topic was weight-loss, another thing I have issues about, and she said (quite rightly) that it's a decision. That you say "today is the day I'm going to go on a diet" and the trick is not to have willpower but to get back onto the fucking horse if you fall off it. I think that's something I need to learn, to get back on my horse and keep going, to say I Will Find A Better Job and to go and look for jobs and not get distracted by Harry/Ron smut and keep on going even when I get depressed by the lack of responses and the rejection emails.

My mother called last night. Aside from other things, she did the Get A Better Job speech for the umpteenth time and told me of a job going at the Ministry of Women's Affairs. They would, you see, be less corporate, less likely to be looking for a vapid blonde with large breasts and no ambition. Thanks, mum, I replied drily. I'm so glad that you think that people need to look past my appearance... only, it's not the vapid blonde with large breasts and no ambition that I fear - it's the intelligent young lady, size twelve with a good degree and an interest in social policy that I fear, and resent, and.

See, the thing is that I'm not talking much about the things that I'm thinking about (the things that I'm thinking about me) because they upset me to think about, and I don't like being this public anyway. And, yet, I'm posting this publicly, because I need to get better at pushing my own boundaries.

For god's sake, my life is defined by the Mairangi and Karori bus routes and places within walking distance thereof.

I got my hair cut yesterday, and bought a CD and two books. Now I have - actually, quite a bit of money left over, and it is so weird.

Am vaguely considering buying a laptop. Since that would be shiny, and I'd be able to play the Sims, and did I mention shiny? And also being able to burn CDs and play DVDs? Shiny. Only, I need to get organised, if I'm going to Do This Thing. Or something.

Blah. I just want to crawl into bed and be warm and comfortable. This is despite the fact that I am really bad at staying in bed once I'm awake, and although I'm really tired I don't know if I could get back to sleep now.

To work I go.