Here We Are Again

Here we are again. Early morning, with the wind blowing a gale outside and a long, very long, day ahead. It's 6:30, I can hear my Dad waking up for another long day at the factory while most people are asleep. Not me though. I had my quota of sleep last night. So much in fact, that there is no chance I can sleep more today, so this is it.

Mother wanted me to have a, "productive day". I'm not sure what the meaning of that is at the moment, and what she means by, "productive", but it's not exactly going to be that meaningful. I mean, yes, I can search for longer for a job but that only takes so long. What else can I do? I mean, seriously, what else is there? Not as if I have an essay to complete, or even a part-time job to go to. I would like to, but it's just not how it is at the moment.

Someone suggested to me that I should start a "project". Again though, what do they mean by a "project"? Like, write a novel or create a portfolio of pictures? It doesn't sound overly interesting. I have tried to create a basis to write some short stories before but they never turn out that great. I run out of things to do very quickly.

I tried to get to sleep earlier. From about 12.30, but proper sleep never came round. I closed my eyes for 15 minutes at a time, before opening them to stare at the dark ceiling for a while, before trying again. This pattern was only broken by an intoxicated Monkey who wanted to chat about the same old things. But his life is far better than mine at the moment... I finally decided to fully get up at about 3.30, knowing I was just lying there doing nothing. Only becoming more awake.

Kettle was still awake. In the university manner of, "stay up late, get up late" and told me a few very amusing stories of his flat mates ability to run the 400 metres at an impossible rate, (How he can knock 13 seconds off the world record, I don't know!) and how he had a Swedish model girlfriend etc etc. People like this amuse me. Making up ridiculous and impossible lies. I have a friend, (well, more of an acquaintence), that is adament he DJ'd i n Ibiza with David Guetta last year and a friend, who still lives on my road, that once claimed his cousin was part of the GB Bobsleigh team at the Winter Olympics in Turin in 2007. I mean, really? Why say that?

I'm not certain Kettle knew how much these ridiculous stories improved my mood, as I was drifting in and out of down time up to that moment. Monkey aswell, cheered me up, despite his drunken state, at a time where I was telling myself to stop being like I was.

Friends, hey. What would I do without them?