Moaner. Part Bajillion.

Day 6184 (approximately) of being Kristina Reynolds...

What can I say? Life - is still not remotely interesting. My main priority right now is my health and my school work. I have five "best friends" and lately only two of them are around. In fact, I wouldn't even push it to two; I'd say one. And even then, I'm still pushing it. I have no boyfriend, no social life, no car - not even a bike and I don't even have the motivation to do anything remotely interesting in the first place. I always said that the second I turn 18 I'll run a riot around this town, because at least then my life can actually take flight. But even then, I won't have a home of my own. I'll probably have failed my theory test about 10 times by then and I reckon I'll still be single without any fashion sense.

 The only thing going for me right now is a job I haven't even started and don't even want. I know - I'm a selfish bitch. There are so many people out there right now who are searching desperately for a job and would do anything to have mine, and here I am, sitting at home on a Thursday night, still in my pyjamas, with my hair amess and my face - repulsive - and people are struggling to get by .

It hit me just how selfish I can be when I was in the hospital yesterday. No biggy - I'm just run down and might explode any second now. There was this woman there who my dad had gone out with a long, long time ago (Lord only knows how but at least he had a girlfriend!) and she had been there since the day before, not knowing whether she has appenicitis or a stomach ulcer! She's been waiting around all the day before and all yesterday and I only had to spend four and a half hours there just to get a blood test. I hate needles, so when the nurse told me she was going to give me one, I was crying before she came anywhere near me. I always do that. But the hooker didn't tell me she was leaving the feckin' thing in my arm and when I looked down after she told me "all over" ... You can bet I spent the next hour and a half cribbin' and cryin' like a feckin' two year old.

Anyways. Being run down during winter just makes it even more depressing than the season is set out to be in the first place. I don't know why people like winter. What's so great about freezing cold weather and rain 24/7 in pitch black darkness by 5pm?! The only good thing that comes out of winter is Christmas and at my age, that's only if you've got a 'special someone' to share it with. Christ. I go on like I'm 40. I feel like I'm 40. The other day I was even checking for wrinkles around my eyelids. There aren't any; I was just checking for them.

I'M SUCH A BLOODY MOANER!

I think I got so wrapped up in where I wanted to be by Summertime next year that I'm losing the will to keep trying to get there. My motivation is gone and the determination that went with it has vanished alongside it. When Christian left, he took a whole year with him. I wanted to keep some of that, just to know that it wasn't all for nothing in the end. So I tried to keep just a little part of his motivation & determination for myself, but who was I trying to kid? The only thing he left for me here was loneliness and silence.  

  I need to run away!

These days, I spend most of my time on Facebook pretending I have a life by living through everyone else's, or talking to myself in the mirror while I count the hairs on my eyebrows. NB: Get them sorted.

If only I could find a way to channel all of this frustration/loneliess/lack-of-motivation-determination/hatred/feeling-sorry-for-myself into studying or writing or even volunteering in an old folks home... Though, mind you, I spent a week volunteering to work with 6 year olds and by the end of that, I vowed to never put myself through a situation as unexpected as that ever again. I slept for days!

Sleep! There's something else I spend a lot of my time doing! Where the hell is Christian when you need a good kick up the arse?! He was always around when I didn't want to be, so why can't he be around when I feckin' need him?! I swear to God - if I ever see his face again, I'll make sure it has a dint the size of my fist engraved slap-bam right in the centre as a souvenir and a thank you for all the 'good times' by the time he leaves. Ugh. Just..

The girls just rang me from the TLT. Hannah was singing tonight. She was actually... Well it was over the phone so 'good' could be an understatement and if I say 'bad'... then we could blame the phone connection, too. I should have been there tonight. My music teacher even told me that I should have auditioned, I should have went. I'm such a feckin' waster. I need to get a feckin' life. When oh when will 6th year end? It's an even longer season than winter and twice as bad. Just like my grades.

 Get a life. Get. a. fucking. life.

P.S: My mother is an all-time nag and a half.