I dreamed a dream and it was dreadfully awesome.

OH MY GOD YOU GUYS!

I thought I'd blogged, I honestly thought I had. I had one of those very convincing dreams in which I blogged and it was epic and you were there, and you were there, and you were there, too.

I've been a-working my feet off. On my one single, lonely day off, I went into work to buy stuff I didn't need (dish rack, though the washing up might never happen) and then spent the rest of the day with crappy Argos Radio songs in my head (#suckfest).

Also, I quite literally nearly worked my feet off because the motherplebbing cleaner who is actually scarily unstable threw my shoes away, put them in a delivery cage and then sent them trucking across the country. My only pair of shoes that don't have gaping holes in the bottom. I was so pissed off I was almost pissed on. But that's what I get for slipping into anger comas in urinals. *cough*

Today was my awesome manager's last day at work so it mostly contained choosing Halloween costumes (try imagining a bloke in a suit dressed as a full-blown pumpkin with an orange shower cap on trying to squeeze through the door at work.. Try it..) and dancing to Wham in the manager's office.

I work hard.

The Filling And The Carbon-dated Toothbrush*

*Which Stephen Fry has since informed me is made from coal and water and oxygen. Thou Shalt Not Question Stephen Fry.

Alors.. Today I had to go to... The Dentists.

I appreciate flowers, monetary donations and cards from well-wishers. Industrial-size bricks from those who wish me harm. Thank you.

I had to go get a filling because even at the strange age of seventeen I still need dentists to tell me that coke is baaad.. ('Tis bullshit, I'm convinced.)

I refused the injection because 'I don't like needles' - not entirely true. I just don't like needles THERE - and got an absolutely repulsed look from the assistant nurse when she saw my right ear**/*** and it all got worse from there.

So he started drilling and hacking away at my tooth without a care in the world whilst I - unnumbed and with very, very sensative teeth (OH MY GOD STOP BLAMING THE COKE) - shrieked and jumped and had to be held down by the assistant (who I suspect may have had army training in the last four years) until it was over. I swear she nearly broke my nose shoving the weird sunglasses they use on my face.

So. That put me off sugar for all of three hours. Now I want to be an erotic baker. More on that as it happens.

**My right ear.. just for you.

***And my left ear, just for the hell of it.

Hang on a second, I'm applying for a job.

Right. And now I'm just waiting for one of my managers on Facebook chat to give me a reference.

I are professional.

Furthermore, message to a manager on Facebook goes as follows:

---

Nicole Smith, where HAVE you been?!

No idea. Just not blogging.

This weekend I went to see Rach for her birthday and ate a massive meal followed by delicious cake followed by a chocolate fountain and... so... much... food... that I'm still dying a little. But I don't have any pictures because my camera is dead. RIP, buddy.

Not much has been happening around here. I've been expanding my musical horizons which is actually a code for Spending All My Money That I Haven't Got Yet Buying Opeth Albums And Such.

Rawr.

Anyhow. I still don't have much to write about, as you can see.

Someone thinks you've failed.

"This is the right decision."

"No one thinks you've failed."

"No one is judging you."

"No one thinks any less of you."

"No one thinks you're incapable of achieving these things."

"You're not dropping out, you're moving on."

I haven't been to school since January. At first it was just a sickness, then it was a weight, and then it was paralysis, and I'd fall and fall and just when I thought I'd hit the bottom, I slipped and I kept falling.

I went from Under The Weather to Under The World in a very short space of time.

I remember squeezing my eyes tight shut against the feeling in my head, in my hands, behind my ribs and under my hair. I remember waking up feeling voided. I remember my head being too swamped with this thing to feel anything. No grief, no happiness. I lost the ability to retain information. I couldn't percieve what people were saying. I couldn't remember the slightest things and some days I couldn't speak.

There is no feeling like depression. It's not grief, it's not pain. The way it creeps in, slows you down, smothers you and soaks "you" up. It's like walking through oil.

And recently with some medical help the consistancy is changing into something a little more manageable.

The pills help. The talking, not so much. Both are absolutely draining.

Today I went from being on sick leave to actually dropping out of sixth form.

"No one is judging you."

"No one thinks any less of you for this."

I've spent months killing myself thinking that I have to go back, that I'll get nowhere without passing those exams and that I have years of the same thing sprawled infront of me.

I don't.

I don't have to do what they say. I don't have to do everything their way.

I can do what I damn well please, and it has taken me ages to realise this.

So here's so me ending my time in school and moving onto something else.

I'm not fixed yet, that's not even on the horizon. But I'm on my way.

About Fucking Time.

Disaster.

Today I came home from a raaather interesting day in and around school (I have a DIRECTION now, y'all) to find my room in this state:

The shelf fell down and my books? EVERYWHERE. How many times did I croon "Oh My Gawwd..."? Sixty seven.

Luckily I had my trusty Denny with me, so we broke out the shot glass chess and drowned our sorrows (well, half of them. Half of the shots were water).

And that is the highly editted story of my day.

Quote Of The Day: "I'm wet and hungry and it's hot and long and I want to eat it and I don't like it!" - "Well, that's not something SHE would say."