Gosh i'm in a bad fuming mood, with no outlet. It's probably good that there's no outlet cos i wouldn't want to unleash my inner fury on my dear friends.
I think that if i study my personality i'm probably quite a control freak, maybe the most disorganised one you will ever meet though, and for this i'm constantly disappointing myself and raging against myself.
Today I was supposed to go and teach the headteacher's daughters at his house, but I couldn't find his house. I began to furiously berate myself for having a shit memory, and for being generally hopeless all round. I'm constantly comparing myself to other people and coming out bottom, and detesting them for it, and detesting myself even more.
Well- that's just the mood I'm in now.
Since I couldn't find the house, despite having gone there twice before (albeit in a car), I took to wandering in circles around suburbia. Everything was sunny and green and neat, not to mention unbelievably hot for November. I took my coat and jumper off, and was sweating horribly and miserably. There was no one about, so i probably took the opportunity to talk to myself, and insult myself in the highest, calling myself a "snivelling piece of useless crap" and thus making myself cry.
In my wandering though, I came across a patch of green surrounded by fragrant smelling pine woods. Everything shone bright and colourful in the sunshine. However, there was no one about. It was easy to imagine that all the people in my town might have suddenly, unexplainably disappeared, as happened with the Marie Celeste. It was truly a ghost town.
In the centre of the park on a mound, was a round white building like a fancy cake, with a cross on top of it's roof. Perhaps a church? I meandered up to it, sweating horribly, and found the big door locked. One could peer through a grille and see inside a sort of fancy mansoleum tomb thing, and a blot of colour on the floor- perhaps some flowers? I had my crap glasses on and so couldn't see properly (perhaps the reason finding the house was so tricky/impossible?)
It turned out it was the tomb of someone historical- in fact i'll find out for you so as not to be horribly unhelpful and vague http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Georges_Cadoudal
There you go- he is a royalist who struggled against the revolution and was eventually executed... hmmph. He was born in Brec'h though which is maybe ten minutes from where i am now. (Gosh, I'm really not being very discreet about my identity...) In fact, I have already given the blog address to a few friends- will they mind if i use their real first names? I suppose they won't if i only say very neutral things about them and avoid discussing anything personal relating to them. If, however, you would like to become a fully embellished character, do speak up in the comments now. I really am quite vain arn't i? I admit that i do quite enjoy the attentions of other people. Being somebody who is known, is quite comforting to me. Perhaps that is why being an unrecognised outsider in this town, with no friends, passing almost invisibly through the half deserted streets bothers me?
Now I'm back in my little room. Today in England, it's a big strike of public sector workers... just thought i'd mention it for reference when i look back at this rambling- just so i can see what was going on in the wider world. I wonder if my sister will be off school? I haven't been in touch with my mother for a few days, but I have a card waiting to be posted, on which I have drawn a picture of my landlady's cat in expensive pencils that i bought from the local art and craft shop.
Everything is expensive here. My rent is ridiculous- when you take it out of what i earn- it leaves just three hundred euros spending money per month. When you consider that i have to eat and pay for train fairs to amuse myself a little at the weekends, it means that I'm saving nothing from this. Gaining no financial gains from this miserable exile.
I have considered being a webcam model, wherby one can make money simply from one's own bedroom, however even signing up for that is a hideously long formality. One must scan a document to prove one is over eighteen- i guess i could get that done at the school- but i feel guilty for using the school equipment for things related to such sleazy business.
Not that i see it like that: I think- why not. It's an experience. You can lounge around chatting to people, and you only have to get your tits out once they're paying you by the minute. I'm probably not really going to do it.. perhaps it's just the thrill of thinking that i could... that i might. What do you think?
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