Be honest, meatloaf is not good in any form.

Due to popular demand (in other words a single request from Katie), I have decided to get the ball rolling on this pathetic excuse of a blog again. I also thought it was the perfect time to dedicate what little free moments I currently have to a pointless blog rather than a massive research essay that I have due in 3 days. Priorities. I also decided that playing golf on Rhys' xbox and watching 'Pleasantville' (a movie I have seen probably about 17 times) warranted a far better and worthy use of my time last night. I'm really going places.

Back to the point, it appears that the last post I wrote was just before my departure to South America. It seems fitting that my next post be on the same day I finally manage to pay back my parents for the said trip. Yes, feel free to refer to the date of my last post. Yes, it was a rather long time ago. Two conclusions can be drawn from this; a) the debt rivalled Greece's current financial woes or b) I am an average saver. I like to think it was a little bit from column a) and bit of column b). Regardless, it means I can start actually saving my pennies for something worthwhile again. However, deciding what to save for has left me torn. My brain is saying, "Emma you dumb bitch, Celia is on death row! Whenever she remains stationary for more than 20 seconds she starts spluttering so much that you actually verbally encourage her to get you home. What is wrong with you?!" And my heart is saying "Think about how much fun you had in South America. Stash aside whatever money you have so you can jump on a plane to Africa and go on safari! Do it!" Nutso internal dialogue aside, I'm not really sure what to do but as a logical person I imagine the brain will probably win out. Unfortunately.

So I realised that I haven't actually said anything of substance yet. I dont know how or why anyone (Katie) would choose to read this. Anyway I should probably insert some mandatory life updates just in case I decide to print this out one day and when I undoubtedly get dementia, posts like this might be useful to refer to.

1. If I have indeed gone senile and I am reading this now, your name is Emma. You're in a nursing home and no one is trying to kill you. Stop running through the hallways naked. It's embarrassing for your grandchilden.

2. Now that's out of the way, I have recently been employed at a discount shoe shop. The pay is better than average for retail but I miss the bookshop, I miss the people I used to work with and most of all, I miss my hands not bleeding at the end of an average shift because I have been handling cardboard boxes so much that my skin's cracked. Now I'm never going to be a hand model*

3. Uni is destroying any remaining shread of a soul I had left. 95% of my waking hours are either at work or involve me glued to the laptop writing assignments that will most likely get an extremely average mark anyway (that's the spirit!)

4. In good news the assignments will be completed by Friday and as I finally have a weekend off work, Rhysie, Dermott and I will head down to Rosebud. Hopefully activities will involve eating cheese and drinking wine but this has yet to be confirmed.

That's enough from me for now. I'm going to go listen to the 'Beach Boys' and not do my homework.

xoxo

*note: anyone that knows me/has had the displeasure of coming into contact with my hands would be aware of the impossibility of this dream.