Or, not so much blogging, but being able to look back and see what I had done that day and how I felt. Keeping a diary has never worked for me, but I kept a regular blog in the states and that was great. I'm fine with just writing in this whenever.
So it's Friday night and I'm staying in. I'm so dead tired, but I have an essay to do, which I'm so afraid of that I don't want to start, which is bad because it's due Monday, but I don't want to do it because I don't even understand the course and blah blah long story short, I don't want to do it but I have to. So I should start.
But first I have to drop one of my housemates off at a nearby busstop. So not in the mood, but she let me use her printer today, and I have to play the grateful card. I was grateful, don't get me wrong, but if I had ink and she didn't, it wouldn't even have been a question of getting something in return. I offered to pay her for using her ink and stuff, and she didn't shoot that down, so I went and got my wallet, and in that slow way of hers she said not to worry about paying, but would I mind giving her a lift tonight? So that's what I'm doing.
I feel disgusting handing that essay in today the way it was. It's not even worth my tutor's time in marking it's so bad. But it's done and that's all that matters. I called in sick to work today to get it done. I felt so guilty about that. So now I feel disgusting and guilty. Good times being me.
I wanted to go for a walk today but now it's too dark. Woops.