Rebecca announced to her mother today – is how I would like to start this entry, but I’m not going to. When I do, the likelihood is such that I will write about it here anyway. As it is, now wouldn’t be a great moment to talk to her about it. I’m thoroughly wound up. She’s only just dropped it on me that there’s no car to get to uni tomorrow (she said she told me last week, but somehow I doubt that. If she had, I would have made plans because my memory is not as shot as hers is). I don’t have any money on me to get the bus or train. The train works out over a tenner for a one way ticket and our station is pretty much on the opposite side of the town to me. The train I’d have to catch would be 7.24am.. then, when I get there, I have to climb a huge effen hill to get to uni (basically the middle of town to the edge). And, of course, I have the trouble of getting back. Now, my alternative is the bus. The bus would be 7.05am and £8.50 for a return ticket. Fine… except these buses never appear when they’re supposed to appear and this is the only sodding one that goes the full way in an hour! Oh, and I finish at half four so I would miss that goddamn bus back and have to wait another effen hour to get home!!!
Can you tell that I’m feeling most unpleasant right about now?
I really am so very angry. That’s why I’m writing it out on here because otherwise I may just snap or break something by accident. I tend to get quite heavy handed when angry (purely by accident, of course). I’ve had a horrible day, anyway. I had to go on the bus today. It takes an hour and a half. And all the way back I was sat next to some old bloke with a chip on his shoulder who was drinking beer out of a can and smoking. And he didn’t get off for the whole goddamn journey. And just to add to that, I already a bloody headache from the journey there! Oh, and when I got there, it was an effen maths lecture that basically taught us about eff all!
Don’t you just wish you were in a room with me, right now?
It wouldn’t matter if you were, to be perfectly honest. In a pathetic little way, I just internalise stuff like this as nobody really listens anyway. One day, I’ll go batty and attack somebody with a flower or something stupid. Then they’ll lock me up and, in deep therapy sessions, discover that all of my psychotic episodes are down to the little ball of unreleased anger sitting in the pit of my stomach.
If I wasn’t so annoyed, then I’d write about something else I planned to talk about on here. Whatever it was that I planned to talk about will probably have to wait until tomorrow. I may even refuse to go and blame it on my mother; though, at this rate, I will probably give myself a fully blown migraine and simply not be able to go because of vomiting and head pain and general migraine related trauma. If I do, I’ll probably be even angrier. Migraines make me terribly tetchy.
(lyrics in the title are from The Sharpest Lives by My Chemical Romance)
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