Finders Keepers, Losers Weepers...

Karma's a bitch. She stole my pillow. Apparently karma is catching up with me for the things I've found over the years and claimed as my own: My sister's eyeshadow My sister's sweeties My sister's books My sister's CDs... (Let's just cut a long story short and say "my sister's stuff".) Back to karma. She has obviously decided enough is enough and I must be taught a lesson. It is now my turn to be the weeping loser. My pillow has disappeared. I'm a fussy sleeper; a sensitive uvula and my ability to snore through nuclear wars mean that I can only comfortably sleep on my tummy. I'm sure there are other face-down sleepers out there who understand the importance of the perfect pillow combination to achieve sleep in this position - the delicate balance of high enough to breathe but low enough to avoid neck pain is so easily broken by pillow adjustment. I had my own arranged perfectly, conducive to a quick drop off. But tonight I am horrified to discover that my pillowcase contains only one sliver of pillow, instead of its usual two. So where is my pillow? No one else in the house has seen or touched it (or rather, admitted to seeing or touching it) and I have hunted literally both high and low for the little rascal. And still no sign. Did karma sneak in and steal it last night as I tried and failed to find comfort on a friend's couch? Or is the culprit less conceptual and more corporeal..? At least I have something to ponder as I look toward the dark sleepless night ahead of me. Perhaps I could take the time to design some flyers begging for the safe return of my much beloved pillow...

All Work And No Play...

...makes me such a grumpy mare.

I started this Beauty Therapy course assuming that I would need a basic knowledge of the human body. I did not, however, anticipate that the course would be more detailed and more intensive than that of first year nursing. When I do eventually finish this paper on the reproductive system I have another due a day later on ALL the body systems, and how the massage strokes we use affect each part. To be around 35 pages long. Fun, right?

It doesn't help that my brain seems to have melted out of my ears, and all the while I'm meant to be practising my practical skills not only in massage but also manicures, facials, facial massage, aaaand keeping up to date with my regular homework on different types of skin and hair and which products to use on each, and how the skin is structured and how many layers the epidermis has and whether or not the sebaceous layer includes nerve endings or blood vessels.

Argh.

4 days of college a week and a day at work at a job I hate... isn't life peachy? And aren't I getting desperate with my procrastination?

Leave The Past in the Past...

Sometimes there are things that you know are wrong. Unfortunately there us this magical creature named vodka, which tends to impair decision making abilities. Is it really so wrong to revisit the past? Should some things jusb left alonez? Should mobiles be allowedwhen alcohol is involved? Come back tonme tomorrow for answers....

The Second Catastrophe...

Me. 3 friends. 3 litres of vodka. It's gonna be messy.

The First Catastrophe...

I have finally figured out how to post from my iPhone. Goodbye, Social Life. I'll miss you.

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie...

So I had thought I would have posted again long before now, but a combination of low mood and working extra hours has left me feeling bedraggled and uninspired.

Tonight, I just thought I'd have a quick whinge about doctors.

Don't get me wrong, I *adore* the NHS, and know we are incredibly lucky to have it. We even get free prescriptions here in Scotland now, although how long the country can afford to keep that up is unclear. I can understand that there are waiting lists for this that and the other, with Inverness being short on the resources that the major cities have. And I can even understand that for a doctor it must be incredibly infuriating dealing with a hypochondriac such as myself. But I just wish that once in a while they would take notice, and realise that even though I am not as well educated as they are, nor do I have their abundance of experience, that I do know my own body better than they do. I know that I used to be a bouncy energetic gal. I loved to play sport (well, when it wasn't part of PE) and I used to be able to live quite comfortably on 8 hours' sleep.

Now, however, I am constantly tired. I can easily sleep 18 hours a day, I never wake up feeling refreshed, I feel weak and nauseous whenever I exert myself or try and go a day without napping. But even after 8 separate visits to 3 different doctors over a period of almost a year, they still refuse to do anything about it. No tests, no checks, no nothing. They simply attribute it to low mood.

Did it ever occur to them that perhaps my low mood has something to do with my fatigue?!

Apparently not.

As for letting sleeping dogs lie, I do wish my sister would listen to that old cliche - being woken from a nap by being whacked in the face with a pillow really does nothing to improve one's mood.

Perhaps it's time to cut some of her hair while she's sleeping again. It was a satisfying revenge 15 years ago, I'm sure it would be again...

Fancy meeting you here...

I figured a little introduction before I get started might not be such a bad thing, so here's the top 3 things you need to know about me:

1. I pretty much hate everything and everyone. Most people think I'm kinda mean, but I prefer to think of myself as that loveable crotchety old woman sitting on her porch shouting at the neighbourhood kids...except I'm only 23... and I don't have a porch...

2. I think I'm funny. It can get awkward.

3. I have way too much time on my hands.

That's pretty much it for now.