Fragments

I have had bad dreams and disturbed sleep every night this week. I don't really remember what the dreams were about, I just don't wake up feeling refreshed. Last night though I do remember something about being covered in shattered glass, and the glass was all over the floor and there was a girl there who was crazy and who kept smashing things. I had tiny fragments in my skin and hair and kept trying to pick them out without cutting myself.
I am tired most of the time and tend to fall asleep in the afternoons if I am home.
I read The Afghan by Frederick Forsyth in a couple of days and although I really enjoyed the book, I was disappointed with the anticlimax of an ending.
I went for a job interview on Tuesday to be a recruitment consultant, but due to the long hours, pressured environment and there being a score board in the office with everyone's commission scores on it I'm not sure I want the job.
Yesterday I went to an assessment centre for a graduate scheme and think I nailed it.
My friend Mr C came over today with his guitar and he played and I sang for about two hours. We are learning
this
and this
and hope to get a set together to play live somewhere.
The last time I made myself come was on Saturday. I haven't even attempted it, or even thought about it that much since then. So for once sex isn't the primary thing on my mind. I'm not even bothered if the spanish woman and I don't have sex tomorrow, it might actually be quite refreshing if we don't, but chances are we will because she's not coming over to play scrabble.
DL bought me Leona Lewis's debut album and I really like it. She told me to listen to
track 3
and that made me sad, to know that she feels that way.
I am eating a lot more than I should be at the moment. It's probably comfort eating, but the guy I walk the dog with once a week came today and said, "are you putting on weight?" Thankfully my head was in a cupboard looking for the dog whistle so he didn't see my face, but it really pisses me off that men think it's ok to say that to women. The next time he comes over I will be tempted to say, "has your dick shrunk? Only the buldge in your pants looks a lot smaller today."
I ordered a cab yesterday only to have it come and then the driver refuse to take me because I had the guide dog. That is actually against the law, but what can you do if the driver just leaves except report his ass and hope the authorities will revoke his licence.
Francesca and I are no longer friends, and I'm not really sure why. She is a very complex person and I can't seem to see the wood for the trees as far as working out her meaning is concerned. It's a shame we're no longer in touch, but I think it's probably for the best as we view things very differently and never seem to meet in the middle.
I cried for the first time in ages the other night. Cried propperly, balling, heaving sobs in to my pillow until my eyes were sore, my nose blocked and my head hurt. The release felt good.
Despite all this, I don't feel depressed, just in transition. Where I'm going and what I'm leaving behind, I'm not entirely sure yet.