Monday, 15 February 2010


I need somebody...

To write my essays for me.


Wednesday, 10 February 2010


There is a mouse in my room.

Not at the very moment, but one has started to frequent.

A few nights ago I thought I heard rustling about in the mess and phoned K, but it went away fairly quickly so I wasn't entirely sure if it had simply been a plastic bag popping up, as they sometimes do. But last night in bed with Kip we both heard what was definitely a mouse. It made noise as it scurried admist the uni papers lying on my floor and the occassional wrapper that I need to put in the bin. And did so for several minutes. That was definitely a mouse. I know this because in my previous flat I had the same problem. Now of course, I'm living in tenement flats that are well over 100 years old, mice come with the territory. And no doubt it would help if I kept my room tidier. But still, I fucking hate mice!

Tonight, however, has taken the (cheesey) biscuit. I'm sitting here on my bed watching Outnumbered on my laptop, I hear a very very very slight rustle, turn and there's a BIG dark brown mouse sitting just inside of my door. It must have knocked a paper next to my bed, or the pack of lemsip there. Needless to say I yelped loudly, it turned and went back out under the door. At least, I suppose, I now know in which direction the mouse is coming from. From the hallway, and under the good inch wide gap between the bottom of my door and the floor.

But mice aren't supposed to like the light! My light is on! It is dark in the hallway, which is no doubt why it ventured out, but couldn't it see the light peeking out from under my door? Maybe not; they don't have great eyesight.

A long and teary phone call to K about the mouse and how much I hate rodents followed. Before I go to sleep I am blocking the gap with something (probably books/newspapers. Not a towel as K suggested, I don't want mousey stuff all over my towel). And I'm leaving the light on.

Stupid horrible mice.

Saturday, 6 February 2010


Except I'm not.

I get sad when I'm lonely. Which is silly, I've lived by myself for a month or two before and could cope. But since living with J, my sister, and since being with K I get upset when I'm by myself for long periods of time. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm an introvert. I was at a meeting at my friend's house on Wednesday and there were maybe 25 people crammed into her tiny living room. I couldn't stand it. I was sat at the back of the room. The loud, exuberant, over-the-top types were doing my nut in. I wanted to leave. But I didn't because this meeting was important to her (she's running for student union president and we're her campaign team). I'm content being by myself on the whole, it works for me. I don't have many close friends at uni so I spend a lot of time there alone. But not completely, there are other people there, just not with me.

What I hate the most though is going to bed by myself. How I ever coped before I was with K I don't know. I have fears. Fears I don't especially like talking about. And being alone and going to sleep sometimes makes these worse. K is a wonderful distraction, plus he's like a big massive teddy for me to hug.

But now I must get on with writing my CV from scratch, fun!