Overstretched, under motivated, excessively whinging – it's all me, me, me.

The computer’s shitty – it continues to go wrong. I can’t rip cds and it even flipping froze as I wrote this sentence. College is intimidating and stretches on for 10 months. I own too much stuff – I have no space anywhere. I only ever realise I have too much stuff at 11pm at night when it’s too later to start decluttering realistically, yet I have no interest in doing it in daylight. I want to play EVE but sodding computer starts rebooting when I rip cds or try and play Dungeon Keeper – hardly going to manage EVE is it. My music is buffering and peeing me off. I hate horse work, and I have 2 weeks of it ahead of me. I have too much food in my freezer – I can’t fit new food in but it feels wrong to throw away food. Virus killer keeps complaining – someone please hit it with a stick! I’ve got to research a project I don’t understand and I have to plan this project whilst suffering college. I have the time to keep up with the php projects I have to do for online clubs, and yet have zero inclination to do them, in full knowledge that after Monday I’ll have no time at all.

hehehe *parody of Backstreet Boys song comes on EVE Underground radio comes on* – “Which Backstreet Boy’s Gay” to tune of “I want you that way” or whatever it is. I did worry that Dorden had put some dodgy pop music into his auto.

I just watched DareDevil and the good music in that and the distinct lack of good music on any of the analog radio stations made me feel somewhat outcast.

I don’t even want to play EVE! – I know full well I haven’t the ambition to be bothered to suceed at the game, and thus lose interest rapidly. I just miss the station chat and being able to dictate the music, that and having some aquaintances who thing Enter Sandman is rather on the poppy side. It’s not like I’ll have time to play it anyway.

I’m living in a office wastepaper basket! An office wastepaper basket wither the staff bring in dog food and about 30 bloody issues of veterinary magazines that you have no interest in reading and yet since you pay for them you can’t throw them away, and they are *just* too thick to fit in the hole punch so I can store them. ARG. And don’t get me started on stethoscopes. Or mug warmers – I want a mug warmer. Too expensive. I have to go back to my dirty student house this weekend to return to living in a cesspit. With yet still more crappy paper everywhere. WHY is there so much paper in the world?! We’ve had electronic information for several years now – this reliance on bleached compressed wood pulp must end! Before we all suffocate under and unending sea of the stuff.

The only benefit to going back to said smelly student house (it really does stink) is that my bed there is better than my bed here – not stupid polyester where the undersheet slides off 5 mins after getting in. And my desk is bigger, meaning I can fit on it along with my reams of paper. That’s it – end of benefits. Begining of disadvantages.

In a nutshell, I’m 23, and by now I thought I’d have a bit of a handle on life. I’d have at least some things the way I wanted them. Pigs might as well parachute. By this rate I’ll have reached a quarter of a century and still be living this disorganised mess of a life, living in a series of escapism dreamworlds that are likewise disorganised, wishing the days away, wishing my life away.

Knowing other people have it worse won’t help in this instant. I know my situation is bloody wonderful compared with a lot of people I know, and I’m aware I’m whining irrationally but I am completely revelling in my ranting, so there. I’m Virgo, addict of organisation, and totally incapable of achieving it.