I haven't written anything here in a while. I haven't really felt like talking about anything. I'm desperately ashamed and embarrassed and disgusted with everything that I've become. I'm a complete failure. I keep saying I'm going to change, that I'm going to get better but I never do. I'm too weak. I'm a complete fraud. Sometimes I manage to convince myself that I'm better than I think I am, but the truth always comes back to haunt me.

This might be the worst I've felt on NYE in a long time, and that's saying something, considering that I find it the most hateful time of the year and always have done. But this year I fucked up like no other. I ruined everything good that I've had, one way or another. Now I'm on the edge of turning 30 and I'm utterly disgusted with myself. I have a horrible, awful job that pays fuck all, where I let them walk all over me and treat me like shit because I can't seem to get myself together properly enough to get a new job. I'm more alone than I've ever felt before. Which, again, is saying something. I have nothing to show for my life. 30 years of nothing.

I'm stuck in this nothingness. Too weak and useless to do anything about it, one way or another. Stuck with the same awfulness happening over and over and over again, and getting worse by the minute. I just don't want to feel anymore. I don't want to feel anything ever again, I think.

Hope?

I'm doing a bit better today. I managed to distract myself yesterday and get a few things done, which helped take my mind off of things a bit. I'm trying really hard not to let myself slip back into all those dark potholes along the road, and I think I'm getting somewhere. Maybe. I hope, anyway. I just have to keep reminding myself of everything that I realised and felt when I had my 'revelation' a few months ago. I need to focus on who I want to be, not who I am now, or what's going on now to upset me. I have to keep in mind who I want to be, who I think I really am underneath all of this shit, and keep trying to get there. That makes it sound a helluva lot easier than it actually is, and I'm not exactly doing cartwheels over here, but I'm trying. That's something, I guess.

As for the whole ex situation, that's a bit more complicated. But I think I might have figured something out there too. It doesn't have to be all or nothing. This doesn't have to be all sorted out perfectly, one way or the other, right now. If we both really meant everything we said about how much we care about each other and wanting to stay friends, then that's how it will be. It won't always be easy or comfortable, but as long as we don't let go of the friendship, we'll figure our way through it somehow. Eventually.

Or something like that. I think I'm less articulate when I'm less upset, for some reason. Makes wanting to be both a writer and sane a little difficult, really. Anyway, I'm trying to get back to real life and not let everything in my head overtake that. Making Christmas presents, baking cookies, working, tidying, doing laundry, all that stuff. May not sound all that exciting or that big of a deal, but anything that might help me cling onto my life is worth a shot.

A new day? Pfft.

Well, it's a new day. I don't really know what profound message there's supposed to be in that. People talk about tomorrow being a new day when you're having a bad day, but what the fuck sort of help is that supposed to be? Another whole day to feel miserable and shitty and to have to drag yourself through? Great.

You probably can't tell from my sunny disposition, but I'm not in a much better mood today. I'm tired, weak, dizzy, annoyed, irritable and cranky as all hell. All I want to do is crawl back into bed but my mediocre-ly paid job beckons me so here I am. I keep trying to distract myself - when I find myself drifting off into my head and daydreaming about anything (good or bad) I keep trying to tell myself to stop it, and think of something else to think of. But that's easier said than done. Especially when my office appears to be staffed with loud, obnoxious missing links of evolution.

I want to sleep so badly. I don't really remember what I dreamed about last night, but I don't think it was upsetting, so I'd take sleep over consciousness any day. I just don't know what I'm meant to do here. I don't know where the middle ground is between ignoring everything and hoping it will be ok, and having a complete meltdown like yesterday.

And I'm not sure that I even want to find the middle ground right now. I mean, I don't want to feel like this, I don't want to be in this sort of pain and feel like my entire life is falling down around my shoulders. I just want it all fixed. I want him to want me again, I want my best friend back. I don't want to get over him. It's been months and that's what it comes down to. I don't want to get over him. I want him back. I know that that isn't going to happen, but I can't get it out of my head. So where do I go from here? I know that so much of this situation - not just the relationship stuff but depression in general - is about the choices we make. But I can't choose how I feel about him. I didn't choose to fall for him in the first place, how do I choose to not feel this way about him now?

I really feel like I'm missing the part of my brain where people figure this stuff out and get through it. I just have no idea how that happens, or what it looks or feels like. All I know is I'm tired, and I want this out of my head. I want not to have to think about it. Not to be tormented with it.

Anyway, if I want to stop thinking about it so much I should probably shut the hell up.

I don't know.

I don't know what to make of today. I've completely fallen apart. I feel frustrated, ashamed and disappointed in myself, that I've gone right back to where I started, it seems. More than that I'm just tired. Tired of being tired. Of feeling so alone, and in pain, and feeling so completely uncertain about everything. I feel like I have no judgement anymore - no idea what's real, what's not; what's right, what's wrong; what will help or what will make things worse. I just don't know.

I know I'm exhausted. I've cried most of the evening. I tired myself out for a bit there and distracted myself with quizzes on the internet (sounds really lame, but it seems to help take my mind off things, because I'm forcing myself to think about something else). But as soon as I started to feel better I noticed that I was doing it again with the fantasies. Imagining that everything would be ok - that all of my fears have been wrong, that my ex isn't seeing anyone else, and that things will be happily ever after. But they won't.

I wonder what has been going on in my head these last few months. I wonder was anything real. I don't think so. I've barely seen anyone else the last few months apart from people at work, my family, and my flatmates. And I keep all contact with all of the above to a bare minimum. I've lived entirely in my head, and created this world where everything is fine. And because I've not been quite as depressed, or at least not beating myself up in quite the same way, I've been telling myself that I've been making some sort of progress. But I haven't. I've done what I always do - retreated into this fantasy world. And now that reality is smacking me in the face I'm having a full blown meltdown.

I don't know how to get from one minute to the next. The prospect of the rest of the day terrifies me - what am I going to do after I finish this blog? Cry some more? Go over and over and over things in my head? I guess I go over things so much in the hope that one time I'll get it right - I'll figure it out. But I never do. And it's not something I can figure out. It's not like if I concentrate hard enough I'll work it out, like on a quiz or something. This all just is, and I have to deal with it. But the problem is, I have no idea what that means or involves. I don't know if I've ever truly gotten over anything that's hurt me badly in my life - I don't know what it looks like.

And then comes the night. Trying to get to sleep and failing miserably. The aching pain of needing to sleep but being afraid of it. Trying not to cry during the night. Counting down the hours till I have to get up for work. Dragging myself into work and trying not to cry on the bus. Trying not to cry in the office, in the bathroom, in the kitchen. Not to mention trying to get a fuckload of work done, that was already going to be difficult enough to manage.

I just want this out of my head. All of it. Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all was a fucking asshole.

Normal?

Man, does life suck sometimes. Everytime I think I'm getting somewhere, something just comes and smashes me right back down again. With everything, even the little things. I thought I was getting on top of things at work, but there's tons more to do than I thought so I'm screwed. I thought I was getting to being ok with myself, and with the break-up with my ex, but I am so, so, so not.

I don't know why I do this. I don't even know how I do it. I live in this little fantasy world all the time, where I banish all bad thoughts with imaginings and fantasies about everything being fine. And then reality rears its head, and I'm right back where I started again. I just feel like I do not know what I'm doing. At all. I don't know what's the right thing to do, what's the wrong thing.

I'm told that I catastrophise things all the time - always imagine the worst case scenario, become convinced that that's what's going to happen, and freak out. But when I try to rationalise that maybe that's not what's going to happen, that I don't have much evidence for that, I end up being proven right about the disaster. Like with my ex - we've been keeping in touch since we broke up. Not the way it used to be before - we used to talk all day every day then. We'd tell each other everything. Now it's just the odd message and email here and there. And I don't know what it's ok to talk to him about. I used to be able to talk to him about anything, and I just don't know what the rules are for this sort of thing, and it's awkward to talk about that via phones and email. Every now and then I'd get freaked out that he was seeing someone else. I had no evidence for this, just paranoia on my part. So I'd tell myself that - that chances are he probably wasn't. That chances were, he was telling me the truth when he said he wasn't ready for a relationship and that it was bad timing with us, so he wouldn't be looking to get involved with anyone else so soon after us breaking up.

But now I'm not so sure. It seems like I was maybe right in the first place - that he just didn't want to be with me, and that he might be seeing someone else. And I cannot handle this. At all. I'm completely falling to pieces. I was so looking forward to his coming home from university for Christmas, so we could try to get our friendship back on track. So we could just hang out and talk crap and get used to being just friends again. And since he was suggesting things for us to do, it seemed like this would all be great.

Until now. Just a passing remark, but something about it is stabbing me in the stomach. And I just do not know what to do at all. Do I just cry my way through this for god knows how long? Do I cut him out of my life? I don't want either. The only thing that got me through the break up in one piece was his insistance that we would still be friends, still be best friends. That nothing could change that. The idea of my life without him is terrifying. It's dark, lonely, cold and utterly, utterly horrible. But everytime I think of him with someone else, it's like being stabbed. Over and over again. So which is the best option?

How do people get over things? I've never really understood this. I've never really gotten over anything. Time and distance has helped a bit, I suppose, but I can still burst into tears when I think of past things and people that have broken my heart. My heart is still broken from all those hurts. It feels like I just don't have the bit of your brain that you're meant to have to get over things. I do not know how people do it. I suppose there's one or two things I have gotten over in the past. They still make me sad when I think about them, and I regret screwing things up, but I don't exactly cry over it anymore. But it took me 7 years to get to that point. That is clearly not normal.

And all of the things that I supposedly should be doing to try to get better mean turning my life upside down, all at once. And I just can't do that. I'm literally not in a position to do that. I need somewhere new to live, with different people or preferably on my own (and I have nowhere near enough money for that to be likely at any point in the near or even distant future). I need a new job. I need more money. I need new friends. And as someone stuck in a crappy job in a recession, who's gotten used to not having anyone around me, and spending 100% of my time alone, I just can't even imagine what not being like that looks like.

I still keep trying not to get annoyed at myself over all of this - to not my simply being upset and sad turn into self loathing and getting angry at myself, but that's getting harder and harder. Because the more I fail at fixing things, the more it is my fault. And even if I just try to accept that, without piling blame and guilt on myself, it doesn't seem to be doing much for me.

And possibly more than anything, I hate that it's Christmas right now. I love Christmas. Always have. But I always manage to get so, so, so sad that I'm alone every year. I mean, yeah, I go to my parents and everything for the holiday itself, but not having close friends and/or a boyfriend to hang out with and do all the things that everyone around me seems to do at Christmas is a torture that increases year on year. And I thought for a while there that this Christmas would be different. That I wouldn't be alone, because I'd have my boyfriend. My best friend. But now I feel like that's being ripped away from me at the worst possible time of year.

I know that it all comes down to the fantasizing - I imagine things being better instead of doing anything to achieve it. And I let my imagination run away with me. Why do I keep doing that? Why can't I get those things out of my head?

I just don't know what to do anymore. And I'm really, really tired of that.

Advent LolCatendar Day 10

I love Christmas sweaters. Bloody love 'em. I could have a different one for each day of December and still not have enough. However, even I would have to draw the line at this one:

 

However, if anyone would like to buy me a Christmas jumper, just drop me a line and I'd be happy to direct you to the 59 million I have bookmarked ;-)

Advent LolCatendar Day 9

I don't know what he's talking about, I'd flipping love a hat thingy like that...I'm actually not even kidding...

Advent LolCatendar Day 8

I finally put up my Christmas tree tonight. It's v v v pretty, even if I do say so myself. And I did it whilst wearing a Santa hat and singing Christmas songs. On my own. Cos that's not weird....

And speaking of weird and Christmas, this site is epic - Fruit Cakes. Some of the Christmas jumpers on there have to be seen to be believed.

Advent LolCatendar Day 7

Advent LolCatendar Day 6

This shall soon be me (literally - I even have those exact lights!). Just the prospect of putting up the tree and decorations (all done with a Santa hat atop my head, and Christmas music playing in the background, of course) is getting me giddy with excitement. Unfortuntely this excitement is currently being tempered by having to wait for the glazier to come fix the door the tree goes in front of. Hmph.

But back to the topic - woo for Christmas!!

Advent LolCatendar Day 5

Happy 5th of December!

Advent LolCatendar Day 4

Oops. It snowed a teensy, tiny little bit last night, so clearly that distracted me from posting yesterday's entry. So today is a 2 for 1 instead!

Advent LolCatendar Day 3

Nieces and nephews come in handy sometimes. Especially when it means you get to go on the carousel at the Christmas market. Snow was the only thing missing!

Day 2 on our Advent LolCatendar...

I really do, you know.

IT'S CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!! (Well, almost)

IT'S DECEMBER!!! WOOOOOOOO!!!!!

I can officially start to recognise Christmas now - I can wear my Christmas jumpers (and dresses, and cardigans, and t shirts...), and Santa hats, and sing Christmas songs and make cookies and put up the decorations and the tree and the lights and...and...and... I think I might be having some sort of advent-related over-excitement here.

Pinball Wizard

I only ever seem to write here about how tough things are getting. That's unfortunate. I've lost the will to pay sufficient attention to the likes of the X Factor to liveblog it, and I just don't seem to have much else in my head these days, but how tough things are getting.

It's an uphill struggle these days, it really is. I'm trying really hard not to be negative about myself, not to slip into those old ways of thinking where as soon as I get upset/stressed out/annoyed about something that I make it all about me and how awful I am, and how much I loathe myself, etc etc etc. Sometimes I've slipped a bit too far towards that before I catch myself on, but I'm trying.

But the thing that's distressing me most at the minute is my apparent inability to take my mind off things that are concerning me. They rattle around and around and around my head, like a pinball going at lightening speed. And the things concerning me are mostly things outside of my control. I can't do much about them, I can't 'fix' them. So they fly around inside my head and torture me.

Not being able to fix things is an increasingly bigger problem for me. I've realised that I have this need to try to fix everything - to take on the responsibility for everything, and try to make it better. Sometimes because I think it's my fault and it's up to me to sort it out; sometimes because my bizarre perfectionism makes me think I'm the only one who can sort it out; and sometimes just because. Because I just can't handle anything being wrong or broken or not right. I don't seem to have any clue how to accept things not being how I want them to be - I just can't get my head around the idea that I can't fix something.

And then I spend so much time fixating on the things that I can't fix, that I don't pay any attention to the things that I possibly could do anything about. For example, something that I can't fix but can't get my mind off of: the situation with my ex-boyfriend. Something that I can do something about but keep ignoring: sorting out appointments with recruitment agencies, sorting out projects for Christmas that need to be done asap, getting myself some exercise to combat the weight, the sleeping problems and my general overall health.

I know I'm being an ass about it but I just keep doing it. I was about to write that I just can't help it there, but that's not true and I damn well know it. I have to keep trying so hard to remind myself that that is never, ever true. I can help it, I can change the way I react to things, but only by trying really hard, every single day. In some ways, trying to combat the depression is so much more difficult than the depression itself. It takes so much effort. It's so easy to forget, to just slip back into old, lazy ways.

A huge part of the problem is that I spend too much time alone. Far too much. Basically all of my time. I need more time with other people to stop my head wandering to places that it shouldn't. But that's not a prolbem that's all that easily solved - I literally have no one to hang out with. I have a friend from uni who I've been getting back in touch with lately and we meet up for dinner about once a month but that's it. And I suspect that she's slightly peeved at me at the moment for not going away for another friend's birthday for the weekend, but I'm far too skint to contemplate it.

But there's no one else. I don't get on so well with my flatmates, and they spend all of their free time with their boyfriends anyway. Another friend who I used to hang out with sometimes has been basically ignoring me since she started going out with her boyfriend last year (and of course competing with everyone else's boyfriends is helping me feel just super about my own situation...), I've barely been able to see her or get any kind of response from her since. She always agrees that yes, we must catch up soon, but it's always put off and off and off, and I just can't really consider her a proper friend anymore, because it's too much of a continual disappointment.

My doctor keeps insisting that I need to join a club or a class or something, but she really doesn't get that I have absolutely zero funds for such an endeavour, and none of my interests really lend themselves to that sort of thing, so I have no idea what I'd do. As much as I know that she's right about me needing to be around people more, I just don't know what the right answer to that is for me. I've never been the joining a club sort of person. The only things I was involved at in school were musical, despite my having zero musical ability. And the only choir I'm aware of in Belfast that I could join has the friend mentioned above in it, and at this point I don't really want to have too much to do with her.

I'm making excuses for myself, I know that, and I know that I need to cut that right out. But I can't help but feel that if something doesn't sound interesting and slightly comfortable to me, then I'm not going to be very good at meeting people through it.

I don't know, I've exhausted myself thinking about it now. And that's another problem - I just get so bloody tired all the time that I give up and just turn my attention to finding something to watch on tv instead.

And now I want a nap.

A list of my non-favourite things.

Things currently annoying me include, but are not limited to:

• Commercial radio and it's terrible playlists of the same awful songs repeated 5-6 times a day. 
• Thin walls in the office that don't block out said radio.
• Tiny, tiny, tiny print that I have to spend days reading that's giving me a headache and making me v v v tired.
• The fact that I have zero money, but everywhere has discounts and sales and offers on and I want pretty dresses SO FRICKING BAD. 
• Work. I'll say no more on that particular subject, lest I induce in myself a stroke.
• People thinking that 'high street' stores like LK Bennett etc are somehow 'cheap' and modest when royalty/politicians etc shop there - despite the fact that a simple work dress will set you back a good £200-250. I've not worn a dress to work in months that cost me more than 20 quid, and I know I am not alone. I'm sick of reading articles about how great it is that Kate Middleton wears more affordable clothes like LK Bennett, when the same news site is carrying articles about meals of toast sandwiches for 7p because we're all so skint. THIS DOES NOT COMPUTE. 
• The fact that I have STILL not received my order from H&M (see previous ranty blogpost on the subject) that I placed 2.5 weeks ago - instead of changing the address like I wanted, it got sent back to them instead so I have to re-order it and wait another 2 weeks for delivery. NEVER EVER ORDER FROM THESE PEOPLE UNLESS YOU HAVE ALL DAY TO WAIT IN. And if you have all day all week to wait in for couriers, you either have no job thus can't afford to shop, or are more likely to be found shopping in LK Bennett in the first place.
• The fact that willing myself to lose weight apparently doesn't work. I really thought that was gonna cancel out all those pizzas and chocolate bars....
• Being stressed out about my favourite time of year. It always happens, yet Christmas always remains my favourite time of year. I'm clearly nuts. I get stressed about money, about who to buy presents for and the level of present to buy, about whether or not I'll actually have any social plans this year, or if it'll be another fortnight slouched in front of the tv at my parents' eating my body weight in selection boxes and Toblerone. I was determined for this Christmas to be different, to get to hang out with people and go out and do stuff, but I can't force myself on people. That'd just be even weirder than I already am. Maybe Santa will bring me some robo-friends in my stocking that I can programme to do my bidding....

Tired.

Today has not been a good day.

Work has gradually been getting more and more on top of me, so when something went wrong today I think that sort of set everything else off. I just don't know what to do anymore. I was so determined before that I wouldn't let this beat me, that I just had to be strong and stand my ground. But somehow that hasn't happened. I didn't really notice it not happening, until it hadn't, so to speak. It's as though the lights turned off so slowly and gradually that I didn't notice the darkness approaching until it was pitch black.

I don't think I'd go so far as to say that I've slipped back completely into old ways of thinking. I've still been trying to resist the thoughts of low self-worth and bat those away as best I can. But this rut that I've sunken into is more than just a dull, lifeless routine. I feel so completely lost sometimes. I don't trust my own judgement, so I don't know what the right course of action is. With anything at all. I'm on the verge of tears all the time, even when I don't realise it - all of a sudden I'll just burst into tears and barely be able to figure out what might have started it or what I'm upset about.

I'm really struggling to understand this. I thought I was trying; I thought I had made some progress. And I know, somewhere in my head, I have made some progress. I'm not immediately turning this around to become yet another instrument to beat myself up with - at least not for too long, anyway. But I feel like nothing works. Meds, counselling, therapy, my mini-revelation. I don't quite understand what I'm doing wrong. And it doesn't help that there are so many things currently outside of my control that are making me feel worse. Stuff at work, stuff at home, family stuff, money stuff, left-over relationship stuff. As much as I know that I am the only one who can change anything in my life or in my head, it feels that there are so many external factors conspiring against me that the universe is just toying with me for its own malevolent amusement. The bastard.

I do want to keep on trying, I do. I don't want to give up because that is possibly more frightening than anything else. But I'm afraid. I'm afraid that I don't know what is the right answer anymore, which is the right direction. I can't seem to make any decisions for the life of me, because I honestly can't see clearly enough to know which choice I ought to make. I don't like that.

I don't want this to be the end. I don't want to give up. I don't want to resign myself to feeling like this all of the time and just accept that I'll always be miserable and alone and unhappy. But I need some sort of help. I don't know what that help is, where to find it, or how to know it when I see it, but I need it. I want to keep looking for it, but I'm getting tired.

Rant of the day - H&M are shit.

Never, ever, ever, EVER order anything online from H&M unless you happen to have a week or two to sit in your house all day and wait for them.

I ordered something on Oct 31st. Said delivery would be Nov 5-11, despite the fact that it was dispatched the next day. It takes a week to dispatch something a few hundred miles? Right, whatever. So, I keep checking the tracking website for the delivery, and I get a text on Monday morning that my delivery will be made within 24-48 hours. They also choose this moment to inform me that the parcel needs to be signed for. I can't just take a couple of days off work, so I just have to hope that it arrives when someone is home, or that they call me (as per my delivery instructions) so I can work something out.

So later that day, according to the tracking website, they have an access problem. Not surprising, because my apartment building is very difficult to get into if you don't have the codes for the gates and a key. Also, the buzzers tend not to work. So I immediately called H&M (since there's no contact details for the courier) to ask them to get the courier to call me, so that I could explain how to get into the property and hopefully work out when they might be there to let them in. That usually works fine any other time I'm having something like this delivered. They make the note, that's fine.

Two days and nothing happens. Then the tracking site says that the item is out for delivery, since yesterday apparently, but I've heard nothing. So I call again to see if there's anything I can do - my concern is that if they can't get to my property a few times, they'll send it back, I don't get my item (purchased with a time-limited and now-expired discount code) and I get charged an extra £9.90 for the trouble. So anyway, I call them and the girl tells me that since the couriers are self-employed, there's no requirement for them to have a mobile phone on them to be able to call me, but she can email a message. But since I can't spend all bloody week at home waiting for this package, I ask if I can get it delivered to a different address. They don't do work addresses, though, so I have to ask if I can use my parents' address. Which apparently might take another week, if they have to change couriers. And will take a few days anyway, since they need to go to the courier, come back to H&M and get authorisation.

I'd like to know what the hell they think people do with their time?! There doesn't seem to be a centre or anything for the courier that I can go to and collect the item, they don't have an option on the online store to be able to collect in my local H&M (which New Look have started doing recently - means I never have to worry about delivery plus it's free. 1-0 to New Look), and they won't deliver to work addresses. WTF?! Plus, they don't exactly give you a heads up when you're ordering to let you know about all these problems. I would've put my parents' address down in the first place had I realised that, because it's at least easy to get to their front door, plus they're often home during the day.

I have to say, the people I've spoken to have been very nice and polite and everything - it's certainly not their fault. It's the fault of whatever genius came up with this policy for deliveries. I've already been screwed over lately by having inflated charges from another online store of a well-known high street chain (*cough* Office, I'm looking at you) just because I live in Northern Ireland. I also don't really understand why couriering all this stuff is so necessary - can't they at least give you the option for Royal Mail? It works perfectly fine for 99% of the stuff I order from the likes of Amazon, so why can't it be an option for clothing retailers as well? Perhaps there is a genuine reason for that - I honestly don't know - but man, does it seem stupid to me.

And to be perfectly honest, I've encountered many such issues with H&M's website that just are not conducive to a pleasant shopping experience. I mean, I like their clothes, and I think they're usually fairly good value for money - I've got a significant proportion of my wardrobe from there and shudder to think how much money I've spent there.

Thing is, I like to browse online, so that I know exactly what I'm looking for when I go instore. Oftentimes I'm impatient and too lazy to go through everything instore, so it's easy to miss stuff that I might like. But it's easy to spend a bit of time browsing through a website during my lunchhour or EastEnders or whatever. Then I go in store, try stuff on, see if I like it and so on and buy it. I buy online when there's some kind of discount advantage, or if it's out of stock instore. But I just find so many things about H&M's website frustrating. You can't see the clothes all the easily at first glance because they seem to use catalogue shoots for the main photo, instead of the bloody garment itself. Sometimes you're looking at a picture, and you don't know which item of clothing on the model they're advertising to you.

And I'm forever finding things online that I can't find in store - even rather basic items. Like, there's a pair of jeans on their online store for £7.99 (full price) that I keep looking for instore but can't see. I don't know if that's an error on the part of the website or what, but it's infuriating. And I haaaaate when online stores don't let you filter by more than one thing at once - why can't I look at dresses and skirts at the same time, like I can on New Look's site, huh?!! And there's no option to sort by price, or to be able to see what's new in store.

They seem to have spent too much time trying to make it pretty and not enough trying to make it functionable. And if I get pissed off looking at a website, then I'm unlikely to make it instore to buy things. I also find it infuriating when they don't differentiate between an online price and an instore one. I see something I like on sale on the website, I think 'Great! I'll run into the store this evening, try on a couple of sizes to see what I need!' Except it's not on sale in the store, I'm lucky if they even have it in the store, and what I'd save on the online discount price, I'd lose on the delivery costs anyway. So they don't get any of my money. That doesn't seem like good retailing strategy, to me.

Now, maybe I'm just odd. Maybe everyone else is able to sit at home all day, all week and wait for parcels to arrive. Maybe other people don't care about cost, about being able to see the items they might want to buy, and can just order things willy nilly. But I'd have thought that in a recession, when just today I read on BBC News about how tough things are for the retail sector, that shops might want to make it a bit easier for me to GIVE THEM MY FUCKIING MONEY.

Anyway. That's it for now. God knows how long it'll be before I get the coat I ordered, but I can tell you how long it will be before I order online with H&M again - a very, very long fucking time indeed. Harumph.

Hurry up and wait.

I am both exceptionally lazy, and really bad at waiting. I don't quite understand how those two things square up, but there you have it.

I just can't seem to do anything these days. I'm constantly tired and lazy and never want to really do anything but lie around and nap. But at the same time, I'm incredibly impatient about some things. Especially anything in my head. I know that I just need to give it time to get past certain things, to move on. But I don't want to wait. I want things to be how I want them to be right now. This very minute. All this waiting and being patient crap does not sit well with me. It seems that anything outside of my control cannot happen soon enough, but the things inside my control can wait as long as I feel like it. Which isn't the most logical or sensible approach to these things.

I'm not entirely sure what's at the bottom of all this. Is it just a general laziness, that's come about from years of low energy, low mood, low everything? Or is it something more inherent in my personality? Do I have some sense of entitlement, that I deserve everything I want right now, without having to work for it? Is it some sort of need for instant gratification that's a worrying and depressing sign of our times? I dunno, but it's bloody stupid and annoying. I don't think I was always like this. I don't remember feeling like this when I was at school or university. But then maybe the structure of those sort of systems kept me afloat. Always things to have to do, by a certain time, and they were mostly things that I liked and enjoyed doing, so motivation wasn't as big a problem.

I really wish that I could get those things back - the energy, motivation, sense of purpose that I had from academia. I had dinner with an old friend from university recently, and she said that she doesn't think I've changed at all from our uni days. I don't know about that. Obviously, she doesn't know about my problems so I guess she doesn't have a lot of data to go off of. But it's nice to know that I still seem like myself to her, whatever that is. I guess my personality, my sense of humour, all that sort of stuff maybe hasn't changed that much. And in some ways, as much as it's draining to have to hide my problems from so many people so much of the time, there's almost something refreshing about being around someone who hasn't got a clue about them - it's like I can almost pretend that I don't have these problems and just be myself. Obviously that's only a temporary thing, and hardly a long-term approach to depression, but still. Gotta see the upsides where I can, I guess.

Ironically I think I'm a bit more confident now that I was at uni. I think that's partly just the effect of going out into the working world, being in increasingly more situations where I need confidence and such. And I think it's also partly because of the depression. It's weird, the sort of strength that you get from it. It doesn't feel like it a lot of the time - you feel so tired, so low, so afraid and lonely and unworthy so often. But somewhere there's some kind of 'well fuck the world' sort of thing that comes out of it. A feeling of 'what the hell can the world do to me now, things are already pretty bad' that gives you some sort of weird, quiet strength. And just knowing that I've had these problems for so long now, but they haven't done me in. Not quite yet, anyway. But I know that that means there's some sort of strength and energy in there. Somewhere. I just need to unearth it and put it to good use.

I have no idea how I got to this from the start of this post. It's weird, the way my train of thought can go, especially when I'm writing. I think that's why I need to do this more. Sometimes I do just get sick of thinking and talking about things, and I do feel a bit self-indulgent doing this, like I think my problems are so important that they should be aired to the world. But that's not my intention. Writing seems to help me get things straight more than just going over and over and over them in my head. So it seems like an actual productive thing. As well as kinda cathartic. And for some reason, writing vaguely publicly like this helps with that - when I would write just for myself, like a private diary or whatever, I would go down the rabbit hole of self-hatred far too often. I used it to torture myself for some odd reason. I don't know quite why that is - maybe I thought I had to play up to the idea of a victim or something.

I have to keep reminding myself of this - something has changed for me. Even though I've been feeling quite down and stuck and lost of late, it's still different than it used to me. Only a little bit different, at times, but still. I have to hold onto that and keep reminding myself. I very often don't want to - I want to sink into that pit of despair sometimes. It's perversely pleasant and comforting to drown in the negative. But I try not to let myself do it for long - just enough to realise that that is not how I want to be anymore. And yeah, maybe it's all a lot harder than it seemed at first when I had my 'revelation' or whatever the hell it was. I had so much energy then, it seems, that I don't now. But I'm still trying. Maybe I need to tone down my expectations a bit, but I'm trying. I think. I hope. And I guess that's the main thing. To have hope.

Once more unto the breach...

I know that this will probably seem rather self-involved and indulgent, not to mention terribly dull, but I think I maybe need to update the state of my head here a little bit more often. I seem to do better writing about things than letting them endlessly ruminate in my head, so maybe this will help me to stay on track a little bit better.

So, yesterday was quite a crappy day, as yesterday's post indicates. Everything seemed to be getting away from me, and the only thing that I could concentrate on was how lost and lonely and scared I felt. I cried - a lot - and went home and lay on my ass for hours watching tv and eating junk food. But somewhere along the way in the evening, I managed to get some work done (mostly because I absolutely had to, no other option). And I really did feel better for it. I wasn't going to bed stressing about how much work I would have in the morning and I felt relatively productive and like I accomplished something. Only a small something, and there are a million and one other things I need to do, but still. The day at least ended a little bit better.

Today I'm mostly tired. Which is par for the course with me at this time of day. I know that I really need to do something about exercising, because I think that's the only thing that will help on the tiredness front. My doctor has offered to give me exercise on prescription - basically 6 weeks' paid for access to a local council leisure centre. I'm a bit skeptical (mostly because there isn't a council leisure centre particularly convenient to me), but it's only 6 weeks so I can at least give that a try, right? Plus my weight is being brought up more and more by the doctor each time I visit. I'm not exactly obese (yet) but I'm definitely far too overweight and it's starting to cause me a lot of problems. Not least of which is the fact that very few of my clothes still fit me.

As for all of the other things that have been running around my head non-stop lately, I'm just trying to shut them out for the time being. Maybe I just needed a bit of a low day and a blow out like yesterday to help me re-start everything a bit. I don't know. But I feel a little bit better today, and that's something. I just have to try very hard now to keep that going.

Freaking out about things, obsessing over all of the things that I'm unhappy with in my life doesn't do a damned thing to fix them. And maybe there are some things I can't fix, and I need to accept that. I'm not very good at accepting things I don't like (understatement of the century, that is) but I need to figure out how. And for right now, I just have to try not to let it defeat me, at the very least.

And with that, back to work.

This seems somewhat apt today...

Rut.

I haven't really written anything much here in a while. That is not a good sign. I've gotten to a point now where I don't know if it's a good or bad thing to not be writing about what's going on in my head all the time. I get bored of thinking about it and going on about it, but I fear that not paying enough attention to what's going on up there leads to complacency and laziness.

I've definitely slipped into a bit of a rut the last month or so. Tired all the time, making excuses for not doing anything (even making dinner or tidying my room), I've ended up spending all of my time either asleep or barely conscious in front of the laptop. I can't seem to muster up much energy or enthusiasm for writing at all - hence my liveblogs of the X Factor and reviews of Spooks falling by the wayside a little. I've not managed to get settled on an idea for NaNoWriMo, and of course work has now gotten in the way.

I've been feeling vacant and empty; annoyed and angry at the most ridiculous things - this week the MTV EMAs being held in Belfast was a particular source of anger for me. Despite the fact that it's a great thing for the city, and has highlighted the local music scene that I'm such a fan of, I've just been pissed off by the whole thing. I think a lot of this is stemming from the fact that I feel so alone. I was so determined a couple of months back to try to shake my life up, to reconnect with people and try to get out more. But it's not that easy. There simply are not a lot of people in my life at all - not in this country, let alone town - with whom I can do things. Things as simple as just going to the cinema or the pub - there's no one I can just call up and hang out with. And I can't just magic new friends out of thin air. I've been trying to reconnect with old friends and I have done, to some extent, but that doesn't mean that we can start hanging out every night, it's a once every 6 weeks sort of thing. And I can't expect anymore than that - I'm grateful for that much, at least.

And that all leads to resentment that I can't do things that I want because I have no one to do them with, and an overwhelming sense of loneliness and emptiness. There are all these adverts on the radio and tv here at the moment promoting mental health and trying to encourage people to seek help. They all urge anyone feeling depressed to talk to someone, a friend, a family member, anyone. Everytime I hear one of those ads I can't help but scoff at them - if I had anyone to bloody talk to in the first place, maybe I wouldn't be depressed.

I'm not quite getting to the point of hating myself in quite the same way as I used to - I'm managing to keep a bit of a lid on that, for the most part. It's not always easy though - it's scary how quickly I can fall back into old ways of thinking without even noticing until it's almost too late.

Mostly, the worst thing about this is that it gives me too much time to myself inside my head. I spend all of my time alone, pretty much. I sit in an office by myself all day. I go home and sit in my room all night. I never go out, I never have plans. I don't even have as many people to talk to online anymore because of my social media avoidance. All that time to myself, inside this head, is not a good thing. It's very definitely a Bad Thing. Too much time to think about things, to dwell on stuff. And perhaps more dangerously, too much time to daydream and fantasise about everything being ok. Too much time to create an alternate reality in my head where I do have friends, a boyfriend, where everything is how I'd like it to be. And then the harsh light of day when I'm forced to remember that none of that is true.

And I know that I'm the only one who can control the thoughts inside my own head. I'm not trying to make excuses about that. I know that the only way to get more energy to do things - even if it's just productive little things at home like laundry and tidying and making dinner - is by doing things in the first place, no matter how tired or pissed off I might be. But it's hard not to feel like I'm caught between a rock and a hard place. Getting out and being around people is what I need the most right now, but I just don't have anyone to do that with.

This is a bit of a rambly, incoherent post, but I've been struggling to concentrate in work so I figured I may as well try to get some of this out there. I have no idea what the answer to any of this is. Just to try harder, I guess.

Spies 'n' Shit - Spooks S10E02 Review

Finally getting around to episode 2 of the last series of Spooks. I will spell this out now, loud and clear - if Harry and Ruth don't end up alright at the end of this series, I will cut a bitch.

Stay safe guyz!!!!

Anyway - it's been a while since I've watched the first episode, so the "Previously..." is actually quite helpful for once. It reminds us that Harry had a relationship with the wife of a bent Russian minister who was spying for the West, and fathered her son, who isn't exactly Harry's biggest fan. This is all rather bad timing, because the UK wants to have a 'special relationship' with the Ruskies, and America is all I DON'T THINK SO.

We start with Elena (Harry's baby mama) calling him but saying nothing before hanging up and removing the SIM card from the phone, which is a message to meet. Then, we have Tarik doing some encrypting bizniz with files at Thames House, while some presumably bad guys suit up for what one can only assume are Bad Things. And indeed, Calum (douche from episode one, who was carrying a briefcase with Tariq's special secret files in) promptly gets mugged outside.

A bit like this. Except they didn't steal his camera phone.

Erin starts giving out orders for people to brief and look for things and what not. Apparently it was part of their weekly share with MI6, and for a reason I don't quite understand, they deleted the files off the main server once they were done encrypting them and putting them into the laptop that just got nicked. They were personnel files (for added verisimilitude they really have been left on a train) and includes an asset working within a dodgy Russian oil company - of which Gavrik (bent Russian, married to Elena) owns part. Whoopsie indeed.

At this point, Ruth enters to tell them that it's on the internet that the laptop was stolen, and Dimitri sees that the thieves are threatening to decrypt the files and tell the world what's on them. Tariq, like any good nerd, is mostly concerned with the claim that they can break his encryption, at which point Calum The Douche is all douchey and what not. They aren't too keen to pull their assets before they have to, so the idea is to stop the thieves blabbing first.

I don't know what their plan for finding the hackers is, I can only assume it was something like this.

Ruth then starts Ruthing it up with Harry, asking about Elena and saying that they need to talk about Sasha, their son. To which Harry sharply replies 'No we don't'. Dude, less of the 'tude. He then goes and Harrys in his office for a bit. For which read, stares into the distance, looking vaguely perturbed.

A bit like this...

...and this...

...and this, basically.

Next we see Sasha in his hotel room/suite/whatever. Someone with a weird beard enters and he hides with an umbrella (!) for protection but it turns out to just be one of his security detail buddies coming to give him a job or something, and they joke about poisoned umbrellas. 'Classic', they say. Yeah. Totally classic. *eyeroll*. Anyway - turns out that the job is an unregistered phone at their delegation's headquarters - Elena's, clearly. Sasha looks uncomfortable. I think looking like you might have just shit your pants but don't want to admit to it is the main audition requirement for this show.

Back to Thames House and they're too late, as one asset is leaked all over the internet. It's at this point that I'm being distracted by Erin's hair. I can't figure out what exactly I find so distracting about it, though. More on that later.

Harry tells Erin to get Martha Ford (the asset in the Russian oil company) to get as much on Gavrik as possible before she's burned. They agree not to tell her she's in danger, and to get ready to pull her asap if and when necessary. We get some more odd looks from Erin - it's hard to tell if it's bad acting, a red herring, or if we should be suspicious of her. In hindsight, I think that was meant to be discomfort on her part about having to lie to Martha. Bitch, if you can't stand the heat get out of the spy business.

I think this would have been a better choice for head of Section D.

 

Whitehall and a meeting between Harry and the Home Sec. The Home Sec isn't too happy about this - it would be disastrous for them if it gets spread all over the papers that they've been spying on the Russians, even though the Russians know about the spying anyway. And the UK knows that the Russians know. And I think maybe the Russians know that the UK knows that the Russians know? Who knows at this point. The Home Sec is being pissy with Harry, as if Harry left the information in a bin in St James' Park or something. Ahem. (Google "Oliver Letwin bin" at this point if I've lost you). Harry is all passive-aggressive back and notes that the safety of the assets is also at stake. The Home Sec couldn't care less, natch. He's all about keeping the Russians happy.

Sasha goes to see his ma and asks if she called Harry. He tells her that he knows she's a spy (but he obviously doesn't know Harry is his father), and asks for the phone that Harry gave her. She gives him the SIM, he tells her to leave the hotel and not come back till the evening. She comes over all maternal and tells him not to put himself in danger - which he aptly points out, she already took care of. Silly cow.

Ruth is at Thames House and looking wistfully at the files of the Gavriks. So, being Ruth, basically.

Something like this...

...and this...

...and this. You get the idea.

 
Dimitri is looking for one of the assets to take him in, but he's gone off the radar. Because he's lying dead in his bedroom, as Dimitri soon finds. Harry wants him to make it look like a suicide to keep the murder off the front pages.

Next, Erin is meeting with Martha the Asset, and tells her to log on as Gavrik to her company's server and steal his files. Martha doesn't seem so up for it, but Erin talks her into it, without telling her the kind of danger she's in.

Back to Dead Asset's flat (which is well posh, btw), and Dimitri and Calum faking the suicide. Dimitri makes Calum clean up the blood in the bedroom, which Calum moans about ('Why do I alwys get body fluids duty?' - lol, and euw). Because he's a douche. And cos he's the new boy, as Dimitri points out. Heh.

FSB London HQ next (I have trouble not reading that as the Federation of Small Businesses) and Sasha is looking all moody and shit. Beardy spy guy from before is there, and Sasha tries to head him off. Beardy Weirdy tells him that they think someone at the hotel called MI5. Sasha tries to convince Beardy Weirdy to team up with him and find out who it was themselves, before going to their superiors (to protect his mother, obvs), which BW agrees to.

Beardy weirdy.

 Martha is back at work at her oil company and is trying to access Gavrik's files, but needs an executive terminal to do it. We see the age-old rush to download files as the person whose computer she is using fast approaches. She gets the files just in time, and pretends she was leaving a note for him. He then introduces her to his mate - Gavrik, who insists she stay and sit in on the meeting they're about to have. Tension!!

Next we see that despite their best efforts, Dimitri and Calum The Douche seem to have been seen leaving the flat of Dead Asset Man after faking his suicide - according to the internet, anyway. Harry realises that MI5 is being framed, just as Martha's details hit the web. Erin comes back from her meeting with Martha to this news, and calls her to pull her out. Martha pretends her granny fell and she needs to leave (lamest excuse ever? If you'll pardon the pun, that is), but Gavrik is looking at her all suspicious-like. As she's trying to leave the building, the other bloke in the meeting gets a call that she's a spy, which Gavrik says he knew. Martha is in the lobby and trying to leave, but her picture is plastered all over the plasma screens on the news. This bit is fairly tense - she seems like a very nice, normal, not-spy type of person, so you do feel for her. Especially when she wasn't told she was in danger. Aww, etc. She leaves the USB stick that Gavrik's files are on in a plant thing in the lobby. She doesn't answer Erin's calls (Erin was coming to pick her up) as she hurries through the streets. Erin and Dimitri realise that if Erin is planning to go on the run she'll have to go home to get her passport, so Erin heads off there.

Martha gets home to 17 messages on her answer machine and starts frantically packing a bag. She has a lovely house too, btw. Erin gets to Martha's about the same time as some bad dudes in a van. Martha knows Erin lied to her and is well pissed, trying to escape her. As Erin is trying to convince her that she has her best interests at heart, the bad dudes get to the door, and the girls run out the back.

Back at the grid, and Tariq is trying to trace the hackers. Calum is being a dick to him - again, and Tariq has had enough. Go Tariq! He has a go at Calum for taking the piss all the time and Calum looks like he feels like a dick. Good. I like Tariq. Tariq is cool. Calum is not. That's why he's Calum The Douche.

Tariq=cool. We already know what Calum equals.

Sasha is at the hotel and has a list of names and room numbers. He goes into room 416, which I think belongs to some random staffer? It's not very clear. Anyway, he goes into the room and plants the SIM card in a phone in the room and turns it on (meaning the guys back at FSB HQ can now trace the phone to its exact location).

Erin has taken Martha to an MI5 safehouse. Martha tells her that she dumped the data to avoid getting caught with it, Erin leaves to go and 'fix it'. But before she leaves, she gives Martha the keys to the safehouse. Which seems like an odd thing to do, given that Martha was a flight risk all of five minutes ago. Even odder, when we see Martha fondling the keys and looking strangely into the distance as Erin leaves. I have no clue what that was about. Smell the fart acting at its best, folks.

Oooh, topical!!!

Beardy Weirdy has found the phone, but doesn't seem happy about it - he wants to know who all knew that he was looking for the phone. At which point Sasha calls him. He has shit timing. BW tells him he found the phone in room 216, at which point Sasha nearly shits a brick, but BW corrects himself and tells him it was in room 416. When he hangs up with Sasha, BW ends up following Elena through a crowd in London, as does Sasha - it's one of those slow montage scenes with heavy, mournful strings. As is Spooks' wont. Anyway, she's meeting Harry in a theatre where a ballet company are rehearsing, meaning we have a really famous piece of classical music soundtracking this scene but I can't for the life of me remember the bloody name of it.

Anyway - Harry is telling Elena that someone has been posing as him, sending her messages. She says whoever it was knows everything about her and Harry, and that they were asking questions about the partnership between the UK and Russia. She told them everything she knew because she thought she was talking to Harry. BW and Sasha are both at the theatre - BW leaves after seeing Elena with Harry, and Sasha runs after him, asking if he's called it in yet, which he says he has. Sasha thinks he's talking a load of balls, though, cos BW is ascared of Sasha's da. They then have quite the bust-up in the corridor of the theatre, intercut with the ballerinas dancing and the music getting rather loud. More tension!

Elena tells Harry that Sasha knows about her being a spy, which Harry already knows of course. He asks her what sort of a person Sasha is, to which she replies 'he's like you, in many ways'. Cut to Sasha killing Beardy Weirdy. Lol.

Harry thinks he knows who it is that's impersonating him. Elena says that although she regrets many things, having Harry's son isn't one of them. Ugh, angst. As he's leaving the theatre, Harry gets a call from Sasha to come to the backstage corridor, where he's just standing around with Beardy Weirdy's dead body on the ground. Dude, wouldn't you at least find a cupboard or something? FFS, like. Sasha blames BW's death on Harry, because he had seen Harry and Elena together and Sasha had to stop him. Sasha still doesn't believe that someone has been posing as Harry, but he needs Harry to help him get rid of the body and cover it up.

I know how you feel, buddy.

Harry arrives back at the grid, and Ruth follows him into his office to ask if he saw Elena. Harry tells Ruth he needs her to investigate his CIA friend Jim Coaver, who he believes to be the Fake Harry. Ruth is still pissed that Harry won't talk about the whole thing with Elena and Sasha. He says there's nothing to be done, 'I've tried'. He says he needs her, she's the only one he can tell about this to find out who's been impersonating him. She says she doesn't mind being dependable Ruth as long as he's telling her the truth. But then she knows she'll never get a straight answer to that anyway, so she goes off to do his bidding, while Harry looks like he doesn't know whether to vomit or cry.

Dear Calum...

Dimitri and Tariq decide to send the hackers something irresistible to try to find them. 'Uh-oh', says Calum, 'the Admiral's got a plan'. DOUCHE. So the section make up a whole load of crap about black ops, rendition and what not to send to the hackers. Ruth is worried that it'll make things worse but it's too late as they're taking the bait. Except that the hackers are doing a pretty good job of hiding their IP address. Until Tariq realises he can activate their web cam and get a pic of the person doing the hacking - who turns out to be a former MI5 agent gone dirty, Victor Elliot.

Harry goes off to find Elliot's office and take Erin with him. He gets there just as Elliot is leaving his office with the stolen laptop. Elliot says that he didn't steal the laptop, it was delivered to him by a 'benefactor'. He insists that he didn't go dirty, that the operation in Iraq (which he was canned for) was clean, and that he was set up to give a job to a company with connections to a high-ranking woman within the British intelligence community. I'm not sure at this point if we're meant to know who that is.

Harry is all 'whatever bitch' and tells him that he has to tell the world that it was all lies, and that the people outed as assets never had anything to do with MI5. Elliot is all 'bitch no', but they point out that it's his only hope to avoid prison, so he does it. Lame-dash-o. They still don't know who nicked the laptop in the first place. Harry is on the phoen to Ruth and asks her how she's getting on with investigating Coaver - she says she needs more to go on, but he just says 'I have faith in you' and hangs up. Harry, now you're acting like a douche. STOP IT. Ruth is looking through Coaver's file, then turns to another personnel file - Harry's. Dun dun duuuuuuunnn!!

Harry tells Erin that he believe's Elliot's story about Iraq, but that they'll sit on it for now. At which point Gavrik pulls up in a limo beside them and asks about Martha. He tells Harry to tie up the loose ends, which basically means get rid of Martha. Erin therefore goes back to the safehouse, but Martha isn't there. She calls in to have them search for her, but Martha comes in behind her - she had gone back for the USB stick. Erin explains that Martha can't go back to her old life, because the Russians still suspect her, and gives her money to go on the run. Martha gets pissed at her for not giving her any protection when she's spying for them for years and for lying to her. Poor Martha is left distraught as Erin walks out on her. Although she isn't cold about it, to be fair to her.

It's night, and Harry meets Coaver on the south bank opposite Westminster. Harry asks Coaver for help identifying the laptop thieves, but Coaver tells him that intelligence sharing between the US and UK is 'under review' because of the partnership with Russia.

I will continue to use this pic for references to CIA man Coaver. Because it is teh awesumz.

 

Back at the grid, Tariq is still trying to find out who stole the laptop by running face recognition on a bunch of computers. On his way home to continue searching from there, Calum finds a sarky way to ask if he wants to go for a drink, and Tariq sarks back in a way that suggests they're all mates now. Pity. I preferred it when Calum was a douche. I don't want to have to get to like him or anything. Though his face makes that fairly unlikely, so I think I'm good for now.

Erin is upset about burning Martha, and Harry gives her a pep talk about sacrificing others. Calum walks through the office, and Harry seems to look at him oddly through his window. It's a bit weird, but I can't tell if it was just a weird directing choice or not. Erin talks some shit about having a normal family life, whatever, I don't care. I guess her whole thing is going to be about how hard she is, and if she can really be cold and detached enough. Although you'd honestly think that would've been taken care of long before she rose to this position within MI5, but whatevs.

More qualified than Erin.

We see Tariq arrive home and set up a secure connection to Thames House to continue searching. Sasha is in BW's hotel room, clearing everything out as he's making it look like BW did a runner. Tariq is getting sleepy but he finds something on the CCTV footage - the handoff of the laptop from the hoods who mugged Calum to someone else, and another handover to someone else. Tariq makes a hurried call to Harry but there's a breach in his security and he realises that there's a bug in his router (which is the same as mine, fyi). He strips his phone, grabs the bug and runs out of his flat.

Harry gets a call that Tariq was trying to make an emergency contact to him, and Harry sends a team out to his house. But as Tariq is trying to make his way into Thames House, he bumps into someone, then winces in pain a few moments later in the taxi - it seems he's been injected with something. OH SHIT THEY BETTER NOT KILL TARIQ!!!!

Sasha, meanwhile, is dumping BW's stuff and car, but I could give a shit about that. Tariq stumbles out of the taxi at Thames House, struggling to breathe and falls to the ground. Calum is just leaving and finds him. Oh shit, he is gonna die, isn't he? After that speech he made to Calum earlier about how hard he had to work to get taken seriously and everything and them making up. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. STOP KILLING OFF THE GOOD ONES!! Calum starts doing CPR but it's in vain. Tariq is taty bread.*sniff*

FUCK THAT SHIT. Srsly, I'm well pissed right now. They couldn't keep him alive more than two episodes? FFS. BASTARDS. I'm pure raging. There's some shit about what happens next week, but who the hell cares.

Some more stuff

I probably should just go back on Twitter, but until I do, here are some more random thoughts for today.

Once again, soup is still teh awesomz.

I really wish our German teacher at school had taught us the words to 99 Luftballons. Would've come in handier than 'Where is the swimming pool?'. Not that I can even remember how to say that, mind.

The digital reading system in my work keeps reading Stereophonics as Stereophonies. This amuses me no end.

Apparently it's the 50th anniversary this year of Catch-22. Moving away from the fact that I'm terrified that anything in the 60s was 50 years ago (although once my siblings get to that age I'll be laughing my ass off), I really should read it again. It's probably my favourite book - I decided to design and write my own piece of coursework for English A Level back in the day instead of the set assignment, and I ended up writing an essay on Catch-22 and how it was influenced by the social and political goings on of the day. It probably seems unbelievably obvious now, but I was rather proud of myself for coming up with that topic, and writing all about McCarthyism and that (I love Cold War-era history). Did pretty well on it too. I can still remember sitting in the library giggling far too much at the book and getting weird looks from the people around me. Apparently the idea of chuckling at a piece of literature was alien to them all.

No matter how much I try, I can never manage to learn all the lyrics to rap songs. My flow is absolutely shocking, frankly.

I wonder if more chair dancing would tone up my butt a bit? Does anyone know how to turn chair dancing into a cardio workout that no one else in the office would really notice? I honestly think I'd be at least one dress size smaller if I went out dancing more. Mostly because I dance like an epileptic windmill.

It is 33 minutes to official hometime. I was going to try to stay to finish off something, but I'm literally aquiver with the excitement of getting the hell out of here, so 33 minutes to go!

I was considering trying to write a novel in lolspeak for NaNoWriMo, but I realised that would probably make it more difficult to make the word count. Plus I'm not sure if it's technically a novel if you include pictures of cats every 3 paragraphs.

Some stuff.

Here are a collection of random thoughts I've had/been having the last few days.

I seriously need to do something about my inability to sleep when I'm supposed to, and my ability to sleep when I'm not supposed to. Can't get to sleep at night no matter what, can't get out of bed in the morning no matter what.

I'm increasingly feeling simultaneously more like a grown up, and like I have no idea what I'm doing in life. I don't particularly like either of these things.

The thing I hate about having an office with windows is that I can't hitch my tights up when I feel like it without giving someone an eyeful.

Soup is awesome.

Skin complaints are not.

New shoes ordered online will always manage to arrive just after you really needed them.

Explosive nosebleeds all over your desk and pretty new dress are inconvenient, at best.

I have really mental dreams, but can never remember them properly. Especially because these days I seem to have lots of mental dreams each night. Last night/this morning, for instance I had some sort of dream involving my family, a caravan, a plotline from EastEnders, someone who was famous I think but I can't remember who, a lake and Chewbacca. Yes, Chewbacca. From Star Wars. I feel like it'd make a great story if only I could remember it....

It is completely impossible to skip past Your Ex-Lover Is Dead, no matter how many times you've heard it recently.

I really want to have a Christmas party, but having most of my friends in different countries atm makes this somewhat difficult. I shall still run around the house decorating, singing Christmas songs and wearing a Santa hat nonetheless.

Speaking of which, I'm ridiculously obsessed with Christmas. Whilst I don't want it to come too soon, because I don't want to get bored of it and I also need more saving time for the enormous amount of gift shopping I have to do, I kinda can't wait for it. Halloween holds little appeal for me anymore as I don't seem to know anyone these days who bothers dressing up or going out for it, so I'm all about Christmas. The lights, the snow (if we get it), the Christmas sweaters (of which I have many), the songs, the decorations, the sense of excitement in the air - I bloody love all of it. I want to decorate my house, and bake cookies, and find awesome gifts for people, and make shoddy cards, and stay up all Christmas Eve breaking my back wrapping presents so they look amazing. Even if I do say so myself, I'm pretty good at gift wrapping. I've always said I should set up some sort of Christmas-related business over December, decorating and wrapping presents and things. But then again, I have enough of that to do just for my immediate family so I have no idea how I'd have time to do it for anyone else! Maybe when I win the lottery I'll be like a female Santa or something.

The playlists I make on Spotify are almost too awesome to be listened to at work - it's very hard not to sing/air guitar/dance along. VERY hard.

I just had a flashback to an episode of EastEnders from the other day where Ian Beale tried to dance to Huey Lewis and the News. It was disturbing. As was the flashback.

Dance Yrself Clean continues to be an incredible tune. 

Getting 69.3% on a course is extremely infuriating.

Thinking of the perfect present for someone, then finding you can only buy it overseas but they won't ship it to you, is also infuriating.

Beans on toast becomes unappetising after the fourth such dish in a week.

There, I think that's enough randomness for one post.

X Factor - Results - The Live Blog!

Right, I'm multi-tasking like a boss this evening - out of the shower, hair washed, changing the bedsheets, sorting through drawers to chuck out old clothes AND live blogging (well, live +1 hour) the X Factor Results show. Therefore this might be a bit more concise than normal. You're welcome.

So, first of all we had no group performance tonight - I wonder how come that is? Are they not gonna do it every week this year? Also, when the judges came out, Tulisa was wearing a long sleeved dress, which meant no tattoo showing off thing. Which obviously means she read my blog last night. Obviously.

Kelly Clarkson is singing a song about how You Don't Know A Thing About Me. I think Janet, Sophie and Kitty are probably fighting about who gets to sing this one next week. I also have to say that Kelly looks very well - a lot better than a lot of the pics you tend to see of her in magazines.

Yet another recap now and reminders of the voting numbers. They showed some of the bitching about Misha B by Tulisa, which I still say was well out of order. She went on about how it's a competition and she has to be honest, but why the hell did she have to bring it up there? If there's an issue backstage then talk about it backstage, you don't need to bring up that shit on live tv like that. If Misha ends up in the last two, there'll be hell to pay.

Professor Green gives a pretty good performance - it's a bit odd watching something as 'real' (for want of a better word) as that on the X Factor. Doesn't seem right, somehow. 

Louis actually apologises for using the word bully about Misha, says it was just in the heat of the moment, blah blah, but he apologises with the sort of smile on his face that suggests he doesn't really give a shit. Tulisa seems like she's been told to STFU but is still pissed about it - when asked who stole the show last night she says "based on purely the performance, Misha" - WHAT THE HELL ELSE WOULD YOU BE BASING IT ON YOU SILLY BITCH?! I actually kinda liked Tulisa before this, but she just comes off like a conniving witch now.

Bruno Mars is on now. I have no idea what this song is and it's hard to hear him over the band but I'm pretty happy with that set of events. I could swallow a dictionary, a thesaurus and urbandictionary.com and still not have the words to describe how much I hate that little scrote. I hate his face, I hate his voice, I hate his songs, I hate his stupid smug smile, I hate his crappy lyrics, I hate his enormous sense of self satisfaction, I hate his hair.

To quote the inimitable Mel Horowitz (father of Cher, natch) "What's with you, kid? You think the death of Sammy Davis left an opening in the Rat Pack?" Man, I love Clueless. 

Anyway, it's another ad break now and then....the results!!! I am, like, sooo totes excite.

Oh for the love of all that is good and holy, that girl from Rhythmix is wearing cropped hammer pants AGAIN. Who is doing this to her?!

Just say no, kids. Just say no.

Ok, first through is Marcus. Whatever, that's hardly a shock. Next through is Misha B - cut immediately to Tulisa, who looks like she's just vomited in her mouth. Johnny is through next and he's hilariously delighted. Even Gary looks happy for him. Oh, and Kitty isn't wearing any pants AGAIN. FFS. Rhythmix are through, so I guess someone out there likes the hammer pants. Janet is through next, again hardly surprising. Craig gets through, leaving Gary with Frankie, Louis with Sami and Kitty, Kelly with Sophie and Tulisa with The Risk. Sophie gets through next, so all Kelly's acts are safe.

Frankie is through next which I could vomit about. He jumps around and shouts a lot. No one else looks very happy, other than Gary. So it's Sami vs Kitty vs The Risk - and The Risk go through. This is desperately unfair to have Kitty and Sami against each other, and it's all Louis' fault. I think he'll vote for Kitty - the fact that he didn't put Sami through to live finals in the first place makes it fairly clear that he doesn't see much potential in her, no matter what he's been saying the last few Saturday nights.

That ad that Natalie Portman does for Dior is on. I desperately would like to be Natalie Portman. Who doesn't, though, amiright? Or Zooey Deschanel. I'd settle for being Zooey.

This Next ad for their next day delivery irritates me. I know that they're advertising the new delivery option rather than the actual clothes, but since they are, in fact, a clothes shop I still think it might have been a good idea to show some clothes, y'know? There's exactly 3 extremely generic outfits in the ad - if I wasn't a customer (and as it happens, I'm not) it wouldn't make me think about wanting to order anything from them, regardless of if they could magic it straight into my wardrobe.

But anyway, we're back and Sami is up first. I think she knows she's going home. She's gone full Cruise Shippy with her performance - it's got all those diva tics and hand movements that you'd expect. She's doing You Make Me Feel Like A Natural Woman, but to be honest, it's a bit lacking - it's an amazing soul song, and she's got the pipes and is giving it her all, but she's not connecting with it enough. I've also realised that she reminds me of an absolutely horrific ex-boss of mine, and for that reason alone I'd kinda like her gone. That's the sort of thing that could honestly give me nightmares.

But then again, that would mean keeping Kitty and her pant-less-ness. She's doing Edge of Glory, which I think she did at some point during auditions or boot camp or something? Definitely seen her do it before. She's doing a fairly sedate and slow-rock version to really show off her voice. I think she's hoping to distract us from the fact that she's stood there in her undies and a tuxedo jacket. She has a great voice, you really can't deny that, but there's just something too off with her. She's trying to be Gaga-esque, but she can't pull it off. And even Gaga isn't doing Gaga all that well anymore.

Some advice for Kitty.

So, to the judges and Gary blethers for a while about how great they both are, before making a decision. He tells Sami that her voice is great but she's a bit dated, and that he's excited about Kitty, so obviously he sends Sami home. She's unsurprised and looks like she could stab him in the neck with her shoe. Kelly then tries to give them a motivational speech about the power of singing and stuff, and ends up sending home Sami, who looks like she's a nano second away from running off stage cos she knows she's going home. Tulisa says she has to go with her heart, and sends home Kitty. Louis now has to vote for one of his acts - a vote to send Kitty home brings it to deadlock, and a vote for Sami sends her straight home. Louis goes on about how people aren't connecting to Kitty and he doesn't know whether to go with his head or his heart. Tulisa can just about be heard saying to go with his heart - which he does, and he sends home Sami. Kitty of course immediately breaks down and they practically have to force her off with a forklift.

Sami manages to smile through her best bits video, god love her. She says that even if she doesn't sell a million albums like Gary said, she will sing the rest of her life, which gets enormous cheers. When Dermot asks Louis how he feels about voting off one of his acts, Louis gets roundly booed and Sami doesn't look too happy with him either. I don't blame her - it was entirely his fault, he hasn't a fucking clue what he's doing.

But that's it for this week, thank jeebus, so I'm off to watch Downton Abbey next. Till next week and the Halloween special! I dread to think what that's gonna be like....

More of this, one can only presume.