Hump

I have adopted a perspective where I imagine myself to be dead to calm myself down. I sit here, dead in the night and early in the morning, and most of the time I do things that don't turn out to be anything. I panic, then I find myself coming here again. It's an outlet but it's not. When I hit "publish" I go back to imagining being dead again.

It's Wednesday morning and I've been sat here for ~20mins, I did 2mins of essay reading then I came on here. The sunlight is coming in through the window in thick folds. A thing I like about this room is the window. I've got almost a full floor to ceiling window, though the bottom is frosted glass, and this year I've been lucky with the weather and the sun shines through many days. The infamous English weather has hit me in bits and pieces, but not in full-blown hail and storms yet, for that I'm thankful.

Another thing I'm happy about with this room is that it faces the forest, also thankfully not the part where there is trash (like the view from the kitchen). Some mornings I see people walking through the tracks, I think I might do that some time this week when the weather is lovely. I'm going to miss this when we move in town next year, though save the inconvenience of having to trek back home everyday.

Am about to set myself into a mode of intensively hysterical 30mins of typing for my essay before I leave the room to meet Belle. When I find a free day next week I think I'm going to walk around town alone, and might do a day in Hove when I feel like venturing out.

Last night we found a 'kind-of' solution for our housing woes, and please may the almighty Housing Gods bless us through and through. I can't imagine living without anyone else but those 3, who now know what is almost the darkest of my darkest. And who got to understand me impressively quickly. It must be the bouts of fate right? I am quite/very certain about this, and I say this with 99% confidence and great tenacity that they will vouch for me in whatever, whenever, and I will do the same.

Also a lesson I learnt this morning: never ship anything in from outside of the UK. Bloody VAT be the bane of my stomach's existence for charging me and Joy a tax on our order. Hell.