why worry?

I guess this is what I need to begin with.  Minus the drink. Or the lipstick part. No, hold on. OK put on lipstick.

OK this drink was from Saturday night. Counts? Maybe.

Life's getting as rough as I knew it would. Fuck, life won't just..hand you puppies.

At least, I have better sammich ideas. Yum. 

I have so much work to do, I can't believe I'm breathing. I do love it though. The rush, the fast-forward, the push, the shove, the nerves. 

I wish I could have a ciggie and actually enjoy it. I can't - the thought of it is making me sick. I got home at 6 and have been locked inside ever since pouring over this shitty negotiation competition I've got tomorrow which is not even being graded. I've prepared as much as I could so now I've got to hit up some criminal law notes. . .
yay....

bleh.

I haven't even had time to buy toothpaste. Isn't that pathetic? Or go to the grocery store. I've been eating porridge and avocados all week. And double espressos. And honey. And today I made a gross chicken soup that burned my tongue.
In other news, these things have made me happy:

babytigerFace.

Jack and Rose. How fitting, the Titanic. I live in Soton.

There are no words that I haven't written yet about starting over in a new place. These things will always be the same. The same rush, plateau, sigh, stars-in-eyes, papery eyes, night runs, yoga stretches, boy infatuations, same sleepy tossing and turning, same nightmares, same fears.


The end.
Oh, an editorial note. . . 

Life handing you puppies. Cuz sometimes you get lucky in new places. Sometimes you meet great people.