Last night I dashed all my plans of going out and seeing my friends. I felt really fucking lonely. It started with not going out to meet Zara for lunch. Then later I said I'd take a raincheck on seeing Alfie and Ben. Bash has gone to Cardiff for 3 days so I won't see her until I'm recovering.
At least that's 3 days her and Alfie can't hook up, right? But it's not like I can trust them not to get it on when I'm in my post-surgery coma. Who wants to make out with Tonsillectomy Scabs anyway? These are my last days of looking beautiful and not like a freaking zombie, and I'm blowing off the one real-life guy I've actually found attractive in, like, five whole years of my adolescence. He's probably forgotten what I look like by now.
Results are also looming. 16th is D-day, or whatever. I'll be dead, in bed, coked up on painkillers at that point. It probably won't even touch me. But how will I do? Will I, by some anomaly, have aced them? Or will my dreams of getting 2 As be dashed, meaning next year won't be a breeze at all, but an exhausting expenditure of energy directed in all the wrong places. I do not know.
This morning we get to see my baby half-sister. Her mother is bringing her to the park in a buggy and I am obliged to go and say hi. I don't want to see her mother. But I haven't seen baby for months. Apparently she has teeth now, or something.
So I picked up my (real) sister from the station at 11pm last night and she was drunk. (She's fifteen). We spent THIRTY-FIVE POUNDS ON JUNK FOOD, CIGARETTES AND ALCOHOL. That's £35 I don't have, sweetie. But I threw it away anyway, because hell, what else is there to do with it. I'm not exactly going to buy myself a nice new pair of jeans to go over my fat size 12 arse, am I?
We carted the food and wine home then watched a chick flick. I totally pigged. What else was there to do? Eating my feelings, as usual.
Afterwards we sat outside and chain-smoked. I say pensively, 'What would you do if you were in my body for a day?'
She considers this for a second, shifts around on her seat. Then her eyes light up. 'I would wake up. Have sex with Alfie for breakfast. Have sex again with Alfie for lunch. Then I would go out and spend all the money on my card on clothes and shoes. Then I would get dressed and go out in the sluttiest outfit imaginable and take my ass clubbing, then I would hook up with all the hottest guys, but give them a fake number, then I'd come home, have sex with Alfie again, then pass out in my underwear'.
I spend a lot of my time kind of hating her, but mostly, I absolutely love her.
You're sister sounds like a scream!
ReplyDeleteMy older sister is home from Sydney for 2 weeks
We get on like a house on fire and spend out time laughing and taking the piss out of each other.
She's good for me, she takes me out of my own head and my own worries.
Cheers to skin and blisters!! x
I wish I had that sort of relationship with my sister. It sounds like you two are really close.
ReplyDeleteGood luck with your A levels results, I'm terrified at just the thought of getting mine. I hope the operation goes well and that you recover in no time.
Take care.
Sounds like you had an interesting day. I am sure you will be able to bounce back after you recover from the surgery.
ReplyDeleteYou know what's weird? I was kind of thinking about the fact that your dad's girlfriend was pregnant on your last blog - and I remember hoping at the time that the baby will turn out like you instead of anyone else in your family. So it's a girl? I guess your dad only carries X chromosomes. (But he peaked with you, I think.)
ReplyDeleteAnd I love what your sister said. Couldn't help but smile like a fool! :) See?
Love,
<3.