3 Aug 2006

fahye: (cristina - I'm in hell)
I remember now why I try to get through Bret Easton Ellis books as fast as possible: I find myself narrating my own life in a monotone, and getting depressed at the mundanity of the minutae.

I had health psychology and then cell physiology and then a meeting and then did some psych research participation*. And then I got on the bus and got off at the shops and I wanted to get a quiche from the bakery for lunch but I'd spent money on a muffin for breakfast so instead I went home and made cheese on toast and my head was pounding because my ibuprofen was wearing off so I crawled into bed and slept for most of the afternoon.

Of course, if my life was a BEE book then we would substitute 'coke' for 'ibuprofen', but whatever, I'm sick, I'm sticking to the nice harmless anti-inflammatory drugs.

(Knock on door. OOH. NATIONAL CENSUS LADY. Lots and lots of questions about myself and TICKYBOXES! Well, there goes my evening.)





*It was a study on empathy. Empathy! Ha ha. Ha. I got bored and overcompensated by saying that the people were feeling morally superior or self-satisfied or uncomfortable when I think I was meant to be saying 'angry' or 'sad'. Sickness and Ellis are conspiring to make me crabby and cynical.

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