that it has taken me so long to realise that good friends exist and I feel lucky to have met some. Finally. All good things and all that though, and as usual I have played the long game. All this delayed gratification (though) makes the goodness that much better. Or something. Innit?
Also, I am able to zip up my army jacket (finally!!) and although it is a proper squeeze still it shows that all of this 'watching what I eat' stuff is paying off. GOOD.
And, I have proven my love and enthusiasm for 'Nineteen Eighty-Four' so much so that my adviser commented on it (an I got a decent grade, yo)... I love it so much it that it annoyed me that in her comments her referring to it as 1984 bugged the snot outta me. Orwell insisted on the words, thus so do I. He'd be turning in his grave, he would. Bloody academics.
Finally, due to me finishing reading the self-help book I have stopped mooning over Drummer-boy. Yes, I still like him (I can't turn that off, like some sorta tap) but I have become unobsessed. I just like him. This is after I signed into a different Facebook account to see whether he had blocked me even though, rationally, I knew that he didn't. BUT... Where are you drummer-boy? Where ARE you? Curiouser and curiouser... My mate (also in drummer-boy's band) is playing a solo set next week... maybe DB will be there, for moral support, like? Or maybe he's dead? Or moved? Or married? or WHAT? Where ARE YOU?
Fuck!
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