I tried caring once. Then I stopped trying. The end.

I'm having what my mum likes to call a bad day.

I call it one of those days where I think you say I'm ill but really you all drove me crazy.

It's just one of those days where I sincerely do not give a crap. It's a day where I hate Dr. D for not seeing a problem and fixing it instead of turfing me out and onto counselling which I need like a frog needs sunburn.

I don't see how it helps, talking about stuff around me when that's what bothers me in the first place. It's stuff that can't magically disappear either, so there's no use trying. I fucking hate talking about myself. (*she says, talking about herself*)

What I need is a really long holiday, one where I don't need to worry about whether or not each time I go to work will be my last (job insecurity is a bitch), whether I should go to school or not (the answer is usually a resounding negative) and whether or not I should just call it a day and fuck off to Lapland or something.

Lapland is awesome this time of year, by the way. And you don't need to learn the language if you're all by yourself (though I did have a stint with Finnish a few years ago koska olen fantastinen).

Sleeping is probably more productive than moaning about Dr. D right now, so I'm spent.