And also I'm going back to university soon, so maybe I'll have better things to talk about.

For the first time in a long time I find myself in bed with a book. And what better way to get back into nighttime reading than to lend my mind and emotion to one of the purest examples of a word-perfect genius available; F. Scott Fitzgerald.

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I am reading The Beautiful and Damned. Because now I think I am old enough and have experienced enough (though little) to relate (though I am not beautiful).

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This is a passage from the first page, talking of Anthony Patch:

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"As you first meet him he wonders frequently whether he is not without honour and slightly mad, a shameful and obscene thinness glistening on the surface of the world like oil on a clean pond, these occasions being varied, of course, with those in which he thinks himself rather an exceptional young man, thoroughly sophisticated, well adjusted to his environment, and somewhat more significant than anyone else he knows."

Going back to university in a month and my mum's decided to move house so am helping her with that and it's stressful and strenuous and I hadn't realised how QUITE how unfit and useless my body is until then, so that was nice. Time to start working out again. And I can't work out how to pay my Vodafone bill and I'm not sleeping very well and this is the most interesting post I've ever done. Just thought I should update Blogger, turns out I shouldn't have...

Up to twenty two, now.  We're moving house, and though I'm not doing much of the work, it is erratically exhausting and thrilling. We are stripping wallpaper and ripping up carpets, throwing away garden bags and dismantling furniture. I feel weaker every day, I wish this wasn't happening during one of my body crises. xx