The holiday has finally arrived!

It's been a massive slog to get to it but I do feel I've left the office in some semblance of organisation whilst I'm away. Surely 2 people between them can do what I do, right?

We'll see.

I have my doubts about one of them.

Anyway, my little sis and I are fucking off to Bali and I fully intend to chill out. Sadly, I know it will all be over too soon.

Valium = FTW

In possibly some of the least excellent timing ever, I'm off to Bali in a week.

Damned terrorists - why can't they focus on being pissed at their parents and maybe stick to blowing them up?

What sense of universal entitlement encourages these people to blow themselves up in public places? Maybe it's my generations-old British heritage, but I don't even like complaining to my waiter if there's a hair in my food.

The original plan was to spend a couple of weeks relaxing and soaking up the value for money; but when I told my mum about it she was all "Ohh - your sister needs a holiday..." So now my sister is coming with me.

My sister suffers from some kind of anxiety disorder.

It gets worse in aeroplanes and when she's out of her comfort zone.

I will be visiting the doctor tomorrow for a fresh Valium prescription and at the first sign of trouble, it's 5mg for her.

is there ever a 'good time'?

It will come as no surprise to the 2.3 readers of this blog that I am a melancholy excuse for a functional human being.

More and more often lately I find myself sitting here desperately wanting to write something interesting and non-myopic; but apparently that's beyond me.

Apparently I'm self-obsessed.

That's pretty shit because, if you believe everyone who's telling me anything at the moment, I'm not very interesting.

I believe them because I know for a fact that wallowing in self-pity is pretty fucking pedestrian.

I hate being this way.

you wish your life was this awesome

Today is the first Saturday in 4 weeks that I haven't worked; and I have to say that's not necessarily a good thing.

I'm all for the relaxation of the not working but I'm having trouble with the loneliness.

Last night I got so lonely that I baked cookies to pass the time - like a 1950's housewife. Today I vacuumed, dusted, washed the sheets and cleaned the bathroom. The house is once more a pleasure to live in, with one exception - there ain't nobody here but us chickens.

By 'chickens', of course, I mean me and Texas.

It's all part of the rich one-dimensionality of my existence. Work. Sleep. Work Sleep.

No company.

No conversation.

No.

Nothing.

Just a big "Fuck Off".

snot haiku

The office cold has
got me in her phlegmy grip.
Stupid office cold.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

More bad.

This week I was treated to such delights as my own mother sending hate mail to my work account while I'm trying to deal with 4.3 million other things. Her accusations included that I am "... truly crazy", that I have afflicted her with "...death by a thousand cuts" and that I am "...not the girl she thought I was."

All this because I will not tell her everything about my life; particularly when it is not my story alone to tell.

Truly, she is beyond interfering and controlling.

It's lucky for me that I'm medicated to the gills so that I've been able to handle her maniacal outbursts with some semblance of calm; but it's not a good time.

Admittedly there would be no "good" time but, if there were to be a good time, right now really isn't it.

I'm so tired.

There are too many things going on right now when all I really want to do is sleep. I can't get enough sleep right now. I should be working about 16 hours a day if I'm to have any hope of getting on top of everything, but I can't muster more than 8.

It's dark and cold and everyone else keeps finishing at 5pm. I don't want to be the last person in the office. I don't drive; and it's dark and cold and there's no one to come home to.

I'm beginning to despair of the probable likelihood of my shit coming together for the best.

...not sure what I want or need to write this evening

I'm just lonely and all DUI*, but without the D.

I'd dearly love to explain what's been going on at work but, since I nearly got dooced a while back, that's not really possible.

I'm fairly one dimensional these days - as if I ever wasn't.

Up. Work. Home. TV. Bed. Repeat.

Awesome.

The highlight of my day so far is seeing the actress who played Prisoner's Bea Smith on crappy All Saints tonight.

I think the best course of action is to take a hot water bottle to bed and continue Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

* Dialing under the influence.