is menthol addictive? i can't stop crunching on tunes and as far as i can see the only thing other than sweetener in them is menthol and cherry flavouring. hmmmm i've answered my own question there.... sweetener.

just sitting here in work i'm beginning to wonder what the sixteen year old me would make of me if she could have travelled forward 10 years. if i had travelled forward i'd have found me sitting in an office having my tea making skills dissected by a misogynist and then going home to a house filled with laura ashley wallpaper where i would proceed to listen to radio 2 and 4 (depends on time of day) whilst baking scones. seriously, i would have probably killed myself there and then. i don't know what i thought i'd end up doing with my life but i'm not sure this is what i had planned. in fact i know this isn't what i had planned, i had nothing planned which is precisely why i am sitting here typing this for want of something better to do while my friends are busy being pr managers, producers of prime time tv and other important and/or exciting things. i am not saying being important is exciting but i can pretty much guarantee it'd be a damn sight more interesting than sitting here. now i think about it, i think the 16 year old me would have been more horrified by the fact that the 26 yr old me hasn't had a holiday for 8 years rather than not having a proper job, a job where you don't have to make tea for people who are too important to do it themselves.

i shouldn't really moan, if i had the inclination, i mean really had the inclination i'd do something about it, i'd get carve out a career for myself, clearly tho, i don't have the inclination and thats the sad thing.

oh and i detest public transport. waiting for the bus this morning i remembered why walking three miles to work in the cold is preferable to public transport. i left the house earlier than if i was walking, i went to rearrange a doctors appointment and then waited for the bus, and waited, and waited. when they both turned up simultaneously, one 15 minutes late, one 5 minutes late i boarded it, arrived at work 5 minutes late. that's 15 minutes later than had i walked all the way here at the time i left the house. how very irritating. plus i had to move cos the woman behind me was making the most bizarre noise i've heard, i don't even know what that noise was, like a weird gulping thing, constantly. i could hear it over my ipod. moved to sit in front of two women who spent the entire journey discussing clothes their children used to wear and clothes for their grandchildren - one of which is too fat for skirts so has to wear pinafores at all times apparently. she didn't say fat, she's its grandmother, she said chunky. one of them has a son who's had a tracksuit since he was 16 and he still wears the jacket now, he shows his girlfriend the old pictures of him wearing it "she's one of these young girls thats always buying loads of clothes" and says to her that he's had it for ten years. lucky girl, she's got a catch there, very thrifty and into his retro clothes it seems.

right i am off to slit my wrists, the 16 year old me would be proud of that at least, i am sure.

everything

well i don't really know what i am going to type here but i feel like typing so i will type and see what comes out.

been thinking about the ross/brand fiasco with the whole andrew sachs messages thing. i wonder did andrew sachs think of the spaniards he was taking the mickey out of when he was playing a bumbling spanish waiter? i don't understand how its acceptable for him to complain about some (according to the daily mail) lewd comments when he used to pretend to be an absolute idiot, potentially offending an entire race of people. you cannot turn the sodding radio on without hearing something about the story, i am so sick of it. obviously not so sick of it since i am waffling on about it now.

oooooh news, the flat is coming along v well. paper is all up in the sitting room now, just the picture rail, skirting board, green paint, gloss and a new door and it'll be done. actually when its listed like that it seems like an awful lot to be done. definitely a weekend's worth of work..... rubbish.

hopefully once that and the bedroom are done it'll be all nice and Mr T and i will get on a little better. or i'll just find something else to moan about which is more likely.

definitely got to get myself motivated with the gym again, have done sooooooooo badly this week but i think maybe i need to ease myself back into it, can't be as super hardcore with it as i used to be. i don't want to be natalie cassidy.

irrational

I have no idea what it is but I am constantly angry at the moment. I am behaving like Kevin the Teenager, it is stupid.

Oh and I've hurt my knee. I don't know if I should go to the gym. I don't want to make it worse.

I wish I was in bed.

The end

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Saw Richard Herring doing his 'Headmaster's Son' stand up tonight. Wasn't sure if we'd even get there as Mr T was told this morning his Grandmother is not long for this world so to speak. We went tho, he wanted to go anyway didn't want to waste the money I'd spent on the tickets (typical). It was really funny and got me thinking. He spends the show exploring whether or not his parents, in particular his dad, are the reason he is the person he is today. In the end the conclusion was, no, you are what you are and its your own doing, you make your own decisions and those decisions make you who you are. I was thinking I should take the psychotherapist to see that gig. Maybe then it'd be obvious its nothing to do with being abandoned as a child, bloody pyschology.

Anyway, I don't have a lot else to say because all that's happened this weekend really is finding out that Mr T's Nan is in a bad way and I've been to see Richard Herring, clearly only one of those things bears thinking about right now.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh

I am trying to write a letter to the woman who deals with complaints at the local PCT. I cannot think how to word it. I have writer's block. I wonder where the apostrophe should be in that phrase?

That is all I have to say right now. I am just using avoidance tactics so I don't have to get on with writing the letter.

Calling Nick Knowles

I fear the DIY disasters have started again, rather like a repeat performance of about 2 years ago when we completed the sale.

Yesterday Mr T sanded the sitting room floor. I came home to find the only way to access the fridge to cook dinner was to move one of the couches out of the way, into the breakfast bar creating a small tunnel for me to crawl through to get from the fridge to the hob. This, however, created another issue, the only way for Mr T to get to anywhere else in the flat was to go out of the kitchen door, through the garden, round to the front door and back again when he was finished. Only he didn't have his front door keys, they were by the door. I had to climb through my tunnel, open the front door, go back through the tunnel and carry on cooking. It was a little like the grown up version of when you push the furniture together and make a tent with an old sheet when you're a child, bored in the summer holidays.

So anyway, I made a start on varnishing, trouble is I don't like the colour of the varnish we're using. Always an issue. Now because I am so picky - I'm not picky, just exacting - we have at least one extra day of the entire sitting room being in various areas of the flat. That includes the fireplace, in pieces, in the hall. I keep walking into the sodding thing. It reminds me of the old days, when we bought the place and the front door fell out and shattered. Oh and when the plaster dropped off the wall in the hall.

Tonight, I am making my second attempt at varnishing, going to see what it looks like with a coat of clear varnish on. Fingers crossed it looks ok because otherwise there'll be a third day of climbing through a tunnel to get around the kitchen.

i have the hump

I feel like a really bad person for saying this but today I was intending to take the day off as a holiday. I didn't, I changed my mind. I then decided that I'd come in and maybe ask if I could have a half day. My thinking behind this was that I was going to take some time off before Other Secretary leaves just because I know its going to be a pain in the bum and seem like a great inconvenience to everyone if I take time off when I am working on my own. Anyway, I come in today only to be told Other Secretary has an interview today, weird since she didn't know anything about it yesterday and that somehow before 9am one has been arranged. I don't know if its my naturally suspicious nature but something stinks there. She knows she can't be told off for taking time off for interviews when they're the ones making her redundant. Must have just fancied a long weekend I guess, also a bit of a coincidence that she's off Monday for an interview and next Friday. Weird how interviews seem to happen just around the weekend.

I am a bad bad bad person. It could be entirely genuine. Somehow though, I doubt it very much.

Am I going to hell?