11:05 p.m.
/
30 November, 2003

I quit my job yesterday, partly out of necessity, but mainly because I'm too young to surrender my dignity just yet, and definitely not for a crummy company where the personnel manager is someone I helped teach to read in middle school. I'm not idealistic, I know that you can't always follow your principles, but my price is definitely higher than that.

The money situation is going to get pretty frightening soon though, so I'll have to look for something else straight away. Of course, the thing that worries me most is that by undergoing so many interviews, the chances become higher and higher that one day I'm going to be rejected. My ego is not fond of that.

I've just watched 2 hours of historical drama... I think it's affected my brain. You know, it may be pathetic and socially unacceptable to say this, but I do truly love history, and I think I would have made a fantastic history teacher, because of how much I truly adore the subject. Going by the same logic, I would have made a truly heinous maths teacher.

Went out last night, got a wee bit drunk, ended up dancing with some old man- against my will, though. According to the witnesses, I looked as though I was about to put to death and kept leaping away every time he touched me.

I'm thinking about having dreadlocks, just for fun.

I'm ill, so incredibly ill. I actually started crying because I was in so much pain, and now I'm incredibly embarrassed. My mum tucked me in and kissed my forehead and I cried myself to sleep. I really was that ill. I'm feeling a bit better today though, enough to start contemplating my return to Canterbury, and the shared house of spiders, with some sort of enthusiasm. Is it wrong that I'm excited because I'm going to clean it?

I have to tell the spider story, because then I have told the world and I can shut up about it. Anyway, I was lying on my bed watching a video, when I picked up my pillow and there sat a huge, shiny spider. I screamed for Nat and Gem and they came and then they screamed for Lou and Pru... there was a lot of screaming. We caught it with a pint glass, and it barely fit in the top. It had really prominent fangs and a green shine on its face. The thing is, I killed a spider who fell out my suitcase two days earlier, and it turned out to be the exact same one, now missing a leg.

It's obviously indestructible, which actually makes me feel better, because before then, I'd never killed a spider before. I'm not one of these people that's freaky about spiders normally, but this was different. Anyway, I'm lying in bed about one o'clock in the morning, later on from that day, and I feel a tickle on my arm and it's ANOTHER great spider! This time it was speckled white and reared up on six legs when I tried to catch it. So now I'm really worried that my room is infested and I've bought loads of bug killer. Damn karma, damn the right of all species to live, damn it all: I want those fuckers dead. I can't see myself becoming a spokesperson for PETA in the near future. Which is good, cos I hate that organisation too.

Anyway, apart from all the boring crap, life is goodish, once I feel better, I'll be much more ready to deal with the world. I'm going to a creative writing group at uni tomorrow night, I'm a bit anxious about it. Tuesday is University of Kent's LGB's Christmas Disco. Elves and fairies... I wonder if I should take my wings? Ooh, and my wand. I could go as that well-known folk legend, the fairy of punk. And on Wednesday, I'm going to check out the women's group. Thursday is LGBT, of course. Friday, I have to come home, in time for work on Saturday... Sunday I have to write my essay. There you go, the whole week already written down.

I've become one of those crappy people who writes down the details of their day according to the external. Don't worry, I won't tell you what I had for dinner... because I didn't have any. Dammit.

Here's hoping I never have to endure another night of my mother and my auntie comparing the places they've had sex... By the way, my mother's example was against a tree in Dublin. She's all class, my mum. I'm going to be in therapy until I die.