It’s 5am and I can’t sleep, so here we are. I want to listen to Taylor Swift, for some reason, but it’s far too early (or late, depending how you look at it) to crank out the old iPod deck.
I hope the clacking of the keys doesn’t wake somebody up. Ah well.
This blog is going to be all over the place.
I’m done with selling on eBay. I’m not putting anymore hair extensions on there. I am so sick of thick, rude buyers. For every nice one you get three pig-ignorant ones, hell-bent on ruining the sale. So I’m done with it.
What else am I done with? Feeling fat. I want to feel good. I’ve lost 4lbs this week just by cutting out the crap, so I’m going to continue for a while yet. If I could lose 8lbs more I would be back to the weight I was at last year, and I would be something close to satisfied. Well, okay, that’s a lie. But I’d be happier. I’m not drinking alcohol for a while. The stuff is just no good for you.
I’ve got £92 in my Paypal, which is all the money I have in the world. I know I’m going to need money for this camping trip. I am also desperate for bleach, hairdye and conditioner so I can give myself a hair-makeover, but…I know I should probably wait until I’m earning money, and can see a hairdresser. They’re so fucking expensive, though. Charge you £200 to do something you can do yourself for £40. Only difference is they do a better job.
I’ve done a bit of writing this week, so I feel good. Got the third chapter of CON v. 2 all sorted…for now, anyway. I am going to set myself some very unrealistic targets:
- Complete draft 2 of C.O.N. by the end of the year.
- Be satisfied with draft 3 before I turn 22.
That gives me a year to kick this story into shape. I have spent far too long on this project. Practically a quarter of my life, which is a scary thought. Still, it’s gonna be fuckin’ good, when it’s done. And if there isn’t a decent 3rd draft by the time 21 files for divorce, you have permission to SHOOT ME.
