Imploding brain syndrome

It's funny how exhausting it is doing nothing.

Yesterday, Mum guilt-tripped me into going with her to this guy's house to do some washing up. "It'll just be an hour," she said. "I'll pay you, it won't be that bad." Bullshit, it was the most disillusioning, depressing, upsetting couple of hours of my life so far. This guy, he's retired, widowed, an alcoholic living in utter crap and it was like being shown a glimpse into the future I'd rather die than live to see. My fear of becoming old and decrepit has been reaffirmed and oh God oh God I don't want to grow up. Reality has taken a barbed club to my face and broken the rose-tinted glasses I've been naïvely refusing to relinquish since it became apparent that my mind was not growing up in synchronisation with the slow continuity of another number adding itself to the seventeen I've been getting my head around for, fuck, almost five months. Five months, is that actually real? Shiiit.

I nearly went out for a midnight wander around my village last night. Nearly. And again, just an hour ago, I stood, unlocked the front door and nearly opened it - and then it struck me, the immense likelihood of my bumping into the local Ripper and managing to get myself mangled and gouged and stabby stabby stab stab stabbed and of course it was a stupid idea in the first place so I locked the door again and returned to my knitting, my blanket and my cat, feeling sheepish but glad I wasn't being murdered. I had a complete change of heart in the four seconds it took to convince myself that I was, at the very least, going to fall down a manhole and drown in the haemolymph of a thousand squashed beetles, and that is because I have problems and my brain is growing toadstools.

Arghhhhhhh I am so sick of biology. Stupid subject. It all becomes irrelevant after GCSE. Phagocytosis, diversity index equation, competitive inhibitors, non-competitive inhibitors, transpiration alveoli spiracles Fick's law oral rehydration therapy oxygen dissociation B cells T cells base sequences exocytosis glycogen motherfucking hydrogen bonds inspiration expiration haemoglobin tralalalalalala what is this? Will any of it bring me happiness? 

Mum casually dropped a little bombshell earlier - both my brother and sister before me earned AAB at A level. Now I have to match or better them to not be a failure. AAB, damnit.

Anyone see Simon Amstell on Graham Norton on Friday? His social unease makes me so happy. I've figured that if you were to carefully place Anonymous and myself in a room with him and seal any exists then the concentration of awkward would be too much and the world wouldn't survive.

Something a little surreal that happened to me - I got a job, kind of, I think, maybe, I'm not sure, possibly. Waitressing for events that the company caters for. Which is mental, because, heh, I can't do that, heh heh, but I need money. 

I would kill for some chicken. I would actually kill a person for a fried chicken leg.
Speaking of which, Dad came home from work yesterday with a basket of doves, as you do. They really are pretty. Six of them, a month old and so cute. I can't get over how white they are. I saw my cat watching them earlier, and the look of "mm, lunch" was worryingly evident on his unexpressive, ugly face. I love him so much, the disgusting fleabag.
If you don't want to waste your youth on the single most infuriating, addictive game on the planet, don't click here. Don't make the mistake I did.
Pissing off the altos, oh how funny, get out of my head now. Or not. Okay, okay.