<essay> (cross post with ANGRY thread)
Had a quality night (and I do mean quality, not too drunk, not too full, good music, etc). Pub --> Bar --> Club
Few drinks, not a lot, went back to friend flat, but left with some other friends from the club, walked with them.
They (being the normal friends) shut the door. So I snuck round the back. Climbed in the window. (As any wannabe ninja would.)
*pop*
Out pops my RIGHT patella. Turns out symetry isn't the universal lie I thought, and genetically, if you are shit on one side, you are shit on the other.
So tomorrow is ArtsFest. AKA a 2pm till 2am party, which I had massive plans for. And they will still be going ahead. But I will be on crutches.
And as a side. A nice dose of painkillers. Thus, no booze. Thus, the last party of my first year at uni, being disabled.
Which is ironic, because I dislocated my LEFT knee during freshers week. So, the phrase, start as you mean to go on, rings a bell well in tune with how I am feeling.
I am well and truely f**ked off.
Twin that with the girl you like saying she likes someone else (who you belive to be a right twat, along with all your friends and her friends), and you could say tonight was what scientists are calling "pretty gay".
I have been sleeping 'well' recently, about 10 hors a night, but that goes from 7pm till 5am. What the f**k. Uni life doesn't start till 2pm earliest. So I'm f**ked there too.
I really want to go to the DJ ride tomorrow, but it's £35 quid and 4 hours on the train I just can't afford. Had I gone home a few days earlier, I could have done it for under a tenner and 30 mins train.
*more which I deleted, because to be honest, I will write in my mad gay diary of love*
</essay>