Plans, Preparations, Pyramids

Ever get that loose end sort of feeling?

Well today… got up (too hot after having my heater on full all night), had a shower, had some food, dressed, chatted to Mum, blitzed my wardrobe and cupboards in my tiny Ikea bedroom for all that is now redundant and am now a bit baffled as with what to do next…

I woke up this morning and when I crossed the hall on my mission to rustle up a couple of slices of cheese on toast I saw a letter from Salford! Alas it was just an invitation to an open day. I thought it would be a bit premature to hear now. I’ll know on the day from DMU so why do Salford have to take so blinking long about it? With every passing hour I feel less and less likely that I’ll be going back to university in September. I just don’t feel like its going to happen. I want it more than anything – to move out and start a career – but as with all the things that people want and want and want, I have to be prepared for a fall. If just one accepts me then I’ll be over the moon. If neither accept me then I’ll crawl under a rock and eventually come to term with the fact that some higher power up there thinks I’ll live a more fulfilling life with my parents. Thank God for agnosticism!

No, trust me that is not plan B. Plan B is much more complicated and exhausting just thinking about it but needs must when the Satan Wizards are pissing on your face.

Pardonnez-moi.

Just took two minutes to feel depressed whilst listening to Blur and an eyelash fell out. I blew it away and made a wish… it didn’t go very far. I hope that is because of the extra density of the eyelash due to over-enthusiastic mascarraing this morning rather than it being an omen of some kind.

I must stop moaning. Its not healthy. After all, A is visiting next weekend and I have great and lofty plans of booking a table at the delectable Voujon Balti Hut in town and guzzling some Chicken Dansak and chapati whilst staring into his gorgeous hazel eyes and wishing that he wasn’t a commitment-phobe. He isn’t really, deep down, he’s just believes I could never do as good a job as his mother. However, I love him which unfortunately outweighs all of the queries I may have.

I do miss him. Like I miss my friends who cunningly all did courses prolonging the standard 3 year BA(hons) that English universities tend to offer. One friend did a gap year (I never did understand why you would want to take one of those) and the other did medecine. I hasten to add that I do have more than 2 friends however these are the kind of friends you WOULDN’T necessarily swap for an iPhone. I.e., these girls are going to be walking down the aisle with me on my wedding day. Everybody needs besties you needn’t talk to for months and finally see and its like you have lived together all your life. Its like family but easier… Because I suppose you get to pick them. Family are great too but you wouldn’t want to talk about sex with them.

I have a lot of friends but then they fall into a pyramid or categories. At the top we have the two besties, then we have the Privy council (mostly cohorts from university who I trust and chat to but because the relationship is still learning to tie its shoelaces we cannot risk too much), then we have the happy friends who we never admit that we’re having a bad day to and who we get drunk with but never chat to properly, then we have friend-of-a-friends and acquaintances/colleagues/classmates, and finally people I recognise but don’t say hello to. Its a complicated system and A is on his own Nelson’s Column separating him from the rest.

And now I have to go for lots of reasons but I will be back soon to profess more to you. Poor, exhausted little computer.

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