Between my unsuccessful macaroni cheese venture at dinner and my ill-advised late night snack of floor-toast and yoghurt, the most wonderfully passive aggressive note went up on the increasingly busy noteboard (it's filling up with forced smily faces and underhanded jabs on heart shaped post-its at a frightening rate).
"food goes in the bin, guys, not the sink. :)x"
Ah, student life. I do love it.
Everyone labelling 'their' cupboards just incase in a misguided stupor i'm led to believe that i'm in some alternate dimension where my cupboard is infact the chap next door's cupboard and a precious condiment gets misplaced.
Labelled milk just incase 2 milk cartons gets too much for my little brain to fathom and i get sucked into some underground milk-theft based crime ring.
In other news, i can no longer afford to eat properly. I had hoped this would help with the not-being-able-to-join-the-gym issue but unfortunately it just means i seem to live off buy-4-for-£2 muller yoghurts, mini cheddars and John's cooking (lovely as this is, i do feel bad for the poor boy. he could do without me leeching off him, no?). Despite this, i somehow have to get the funds together to pay for my train tickets down to Peterborough for christmas.
Speaking of which: AAAAAAAAH. Meeting the family and suchlike. I'm sure they're lovely. They sound close and i know Howard is nice. Undoubtedly a healthier family dynamic than my own. Just a little nervous is all. I'm not good around new people as it is, especially in large intimidating groups. At least we'll be getting out of the house for a few days as we're popping across to Birmingham on the 22nd for Emily's gathering and going to Derby for new year.
Hopefully it all works out anyway. But it all relies on my passing exams (oh yeah, shit btw) and surviving until then. Wish me luck...
fin.
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