A more imaginative way of getting out of work

So I've been having these headrushes. Nothing hugely to worry about, but as the dizziness appeared to be getting a bit more frequent, I figured it would be sensible to just have it checked out.

The doctor didn't seem overly concerned, but suggested I get some blood tests done, just to check if there was anything wrong. She also urged me to make sure I was eating regularly and drinking enough non-tea liquids (hence a mass onslaught of pie-eating).

I went for the blood tests yesterday morning. Now I may have mentioned I'm not a big fan of needles. I told the nurse this as she set about finding an appropriate vein, but blithely assured her that "I don't faint or anything, I just feel a bit funny".

Ha!

Anyway, after she accidentally went all the way through the vein on my left arm (oopsy) she turned over to my right arm. At this point I may have glimpsed a few glistening vials of my blood. Big mistake. As she was searching again for those beautiful blues, I had that strange white-wash thing going on I had bene getting with the headrushes.

Next thing I know, my glasses and sandals are falling off, I'm shaking and twitching all over the place in the nurses arms and the room is full of doctor types and my ears with a weird ringing.

It turns out I am one of those people who faint. First time for everything I suppose.

It was the single-most terrifying experience of my life, not helped by the fact that when everyone was fussing over me, I was crying like a big baby.

It's hard to describe what it felt like - but I now have a lot of sympathy for people who faint at the sight of blood. It is not at all fun. Even more embarassingly, I had to call my boss to say I couldn't come in any earlier and in fact, I might not be coming in at all. That's not embarassing in itself, the fact that I was openly weeping throughout the conversation is a little more humiliating.

On the plus side, I now have trackmarks on both arms that would make a junky proud.

And some inexplicable bloodstains on the furthest possible side of my favourite, floor-length skirt to the place where the nurse was sticking me. Ace

More on that story later.

Just plain rude

Err, that's me. It has been a dreadfully long time since I last blogged. You (that's you, Mum, and Dave, who appear to be the only people still logging in) will be pleased to know that work and life seem to have picked up somewhat.

It was my birthday yesterday (woohoo) but I overcelebrated on Friday night (and have a purple knee to show for it - don't ask) so had a rather subdued weekend - although still very nice and consisting of lots of very yummy food.

I have decided that seeing as I can no longer claim to be in my early 20s, I am going to start acting grown up. Okay, maybe not that, but I am going to wear suits to work this week, just for the hell of it. This will probably make people think I am having interviews for other jobs. Ha!

Anyway, more on that story later.

Things that depress me

I have been on a bit of a prolonged downer at the moment. So I think it would be highly productive (read self-indulgent) to list why I am feeling generally depressed.

1. After a high of loads of shit-hot stories at work, I now seem to be writing a lot of err, shit stories. See this week for stories about post boxes and cricket teams that might have to move pitch. no really. All this after a three-page exclusive on prostitution is a bit of a come-down.
2. I keep failing to answer obvious things about my stories. So I keep getting asked questions by my various bosses.
3. I'm not sleeping very well and I keep having weird work and/or pregnancy related dreams. I can reassure anyone that is reading this that I most emphatically am NOT pregnant.
4. I keep ending up going to quite cool events on my own. Inevitably this makes me feel like a sad loner.
5. One of my best mates keeps inviting one of my other best mates to far cooler events.And then saying, oh, sorry, I thought you were working. You didn't want to go anyway, did you?
6. I am skint. And I can't afford to get my haircut.
7. It's my birthday in three weeks. But all of my Oxford friends are going to a festival that I can't go to because a)I don't have a ticket and b)I can't afford it so I won't be seeing any of them. I was going to go to a Supergrass concert (by the power of blag) but it got cancelled cos stupid Mickey Quinn went and broke his back. How selfish.
8. The front tyre on my bike really needs to be pumped up. But I keep on getting up too late to do this so end up working twice as hard to cycle to work.
9. I am still yet to start planning my wedding. There are freakin loads of decisions to be made and I have no answers.
10. My new next door neighbours appear to be having a party. It sounds a lot more fun than what I'm doing.

Okay, enough of all that nonsense. I have decided the thing to do, rather than retreat into gloom and doom, is concentrate on the good things. So. A week in Tobago in just a month's time. Here.



Mmm. That makes me feel a bit better.

More on that story later.

Bankruptcy

This may be the answer. I received a call from the bank today. I don't know why (it may be because they wanted me to see a man at the bank 'just to catch up' and I didn't go, having sent an e-mail a couple of hours previously) but I hedged that it was a bad time. I mean, when is it a good time to go?

Then, I got an email telling me that Tobago is going to be rather more expensive than I had bargained for.

I'm freaking broke. I mean, I can afford to live and all that - just - but like, buying stuff that isn't 100 per cent essential for food etc? Forget that.

AAArrrgh. I'm pretty sure that in the grander scheme of things, I'm actually not that badly off. Maybe I can manage to just live off cardboard for a while. And use vegetable oil to fuel the car... and feed the cat grass and bugs from the garden...

More on that story later.