June 9th, 2009

(no subject)

I haven't written in here, because life has been getting in the way.

I've condensed the last 7 months of entries on here, and started writing the book I keep saying I'm going to write. It's called 'Pesky, 33' and it's about the last year. That's why it's not finished yet, because the last page will be my 34th birthday. Do you see what I did there?

It's basically most of what I've written here, interspersed with photos and paintings to keep it visually interesting. Ian's had a look and says it looks good so far, but he hasn't read any of it yet. It's going to be a hell of a spell check job because I hardly ever used the shift key on here for a few months for some reason. I'm leaving in any capslock.

Going through what I've written is a funny experience. It reminds me how far I've come, and yet makes me feel sad. The same old things crop up time and time again in what I'm writing, and fuck me, but I can swear. Do I take the swearing out? Also, there are times when even I want to shout at myself, so I can't imagine how frustrating it must have been for you lot.

No temp jobs yet, but I found a nice agency who get me a bit more than the one last week. I didn't really mention that I don't think. She told me I should do voluntary work at the local hospice so I could see the people dying, and I'd realise that my life isn't that bad, and there are loads of people worse off than me. I don't need reminding of that. I do so love unsolicited advice from people I met 20 minutes ago. Do you think she says to people recovering from post-natal depression 'well, at least your baby is alive, lots of people have miscarraiges'?