Ah, diaries ... eases the pain.

Which is weird in itself, because generally my buddy list are all currently suffering or majorly with the non happy, and yet their combined ow's make me forget mine.

Well, they did while I was reading them. Now that I'm actually here in my diary it feels like my stomach has grown sharp appendages and is trying to claw it's way out of my body.

Other than the stomach ow, there is no real pain, except for being so uber tired and having no energy whatsoever.

Mild chronic fatigue syndrome?

Nah. All I know is there is definitely something wrong. You know that nun in Madeleine who sticks her finger in the air and says "Something isn't right!"? She is currently my guide here.

It's like I've lost one of my senses, I feel deafened somehow while maintaining my actual physical hearing.

Everything seems hollow and all I want to do is sleep.

And it's not that I'm depressed because if I didn't physically feel so urgh I know I would find things to be happy about.

So I am depressed by the urgh. There's a psych theory (James-Lange? Or was it Cannon-Bard...) that rather than what was previously assumed, the order of things is stimuli-physicalreaction-emotion...

I.E. rather than you seeing a bear and going "Argh!! It's a bear!" and running away, it's more you seeing a bear, running away and going "Argh!! I'm running away!"

I.E. rather than fear being caused by stimuli it may be driven by your physiological reaction to it (heart speeding up, etc.)...

So yes, to sum, I'm boring, but at least I'm learning.

Today was well enough. I got up at 6, and night owl that I usually am I was very surprised to find that at 10am it was still morning. Wow, who would have thought morning had so many hours! Not me, obviously.

Stock-taking was fun, despite bruise on my arm from shelf. Stock-taking is where we count stock... and blah.

I had to count flour and some spilled on my black pants and was very obvious/bad looking. Peter came by and pointed and laughed at me while I giggled and said half-bitterly "Stupid flour..."

I wish I had non-work guy friends. I know, it's my fault I don't have any, and it's also my fault that when I see the kind I want as a friend I panic blindly and lose ability to speak...

nice boy --> heart speeds up, higher blood pressure --> girl thinks she's attracted to him (?)

Also had to count gravy and cup-a-sauce type packets. Did you know coles has like a row of shelves devoted entirely to gravy?

My god, I do love variety but can we all say overkill? Dick Smith Gravy. Gravox gravy. Farmland Gravy. Gravy in a jar. Gravy in a tin. Gravy in a juice-type-container. Single serving gravy. Brown Gravy. Brown Onion Gravy. Golden Gravy. Supreme Gravy. Supreme Light Gravy. Salt reduced Gravy...

If I see gravy any time again soon there is a super good chance I may just throw up.

Okay, it's true that there's a relatively good chance I may throw up anyway with the ill that is me. But gravy would definitely push me over the edge.

After that I was meant to go to uni but I went stuff it and napped for two hours and then rocked up for soca tute.

We're forming permanent small groups in order to slowly do our essays. Mine has Kelly in it so far... I like her. She has a nose ring and wears too much eyeliner but is soft spoken and intelligent, and I think we have stuff in common, so yay.

Plus when that super nice girl from Brazil rocks up she will be the final member to our group... so yay that.

Oooh, have I bored you to death with the trivial yet?

No? Then maybe I'll go on ... nah.

My mother is a pessimist, have I ever mentioned? My dad failed to pick me up on time and lacked his phone so when I rang to question his non-presence she responded with "God, he must have been in an accident!"

This is from the woman who after one ring automatically says "They're so not home,".

So yes, my parents seriously worry me because no evidence of my adoption has come to light and this forces me to acknowledge the disturbing possibility that I may contain their combined genetic material.

And it's not even their good genetic material. No, instead of passing on their "attractive while young" genes they stubbornly decide to let that die with them, sticking me with such charming genes as "seriously faulty memory" and "stubborn even when wrong" etc. etc.

Ah... maybe I shoulda called this entry blame the parents. Eh.

Speaking of boys, even though I actually wasn't, Smart Guy saw me on Monday. It was weird, because I was late and sitting in the very back and I wasn't even looking at him, I was writing notes and he in theory didn't even know I was there.

Still, as he was slowly leaving from many many rows in front of me, as I looked back up at the overhead I caught him looking just as he was looking away.

Curious and curioser.

I was going to make a detour to fmhb-sville but as sudden ghastly return of stomach ow (this time with new improved fangs, in order to finally bite back) will just cut this short and hit done.

OOOoooooooooow. Don't know how I'm gonna make it through tomorrow. Don't even know how I will make it through today... urgh.

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