Dead Sam[sung]'s Folly

Mood fine. Tired though. Be wary of moi.
Wearing pjs. I am one of those sad people with a Kurt Cobain tee, now. Okay, so I use it for my pjs, but still... and I don't even like KC...

Eating/Drinking cherry menthol chewing gum
Hearing John Mayer - Daughters
Dreamt about Oh gosh. I knew this this morning. Erm... something to do with squash, ad Neil and my, [now ex-] phone.
Currently reading Max Allan Collins - Cold Burn, Jasper Fforde - The Big Over Easy

Present MSN name Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the spaces between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.
Talking to Bone, Flessie

Last text from le Beak. Methinks. I dunno anymore...
Word of the Day files

H'okay. So I haven't got so much to say this time, which is basically a relief. And yeah, I know it's only about 6.30pm (when I write this) but I have my pjs on cos I want to be comfy.

Let's start with Saturday, cos befoe then I only: fell out with le Beak. Made up with le Beak. Missed the gals. Hug out at the burrow and had wee Herry over.

Well, that's a good place to start instead, actually. She came over. She saw the kitty-kats, who had to be totally gross... but that's kitty-kats for ye.

We chatted for a bit. She watered Cody. We ate. And not a lot else. I doubt we'll be hanging out at mine again. It's such a dump.

Erm... that was Tuesday, or something. The week went by and it got to Saturday. I'd been looking forward to it all week, cos I could go to Bone's Pop's. But I was gona go at 5pm. So I had some time to burn. Some of which I decided to burn by dropping off a little package I put together for Herry.

I went off on my bike and rode about until I got to somewhere near her house. I was gonna turn a corner, so I looked behind me to make sure there weren't any cars to run over me, behind me. There's weren't. But I felt somethng horrible in my neck and heard a huge *crack*. And then an eruption of pain in the top of my neck and the left side of my neck. Icarried on though. I made sure I didn't move my neck at all and I finally got to Herry's, dropped off the package and then rode off again as fast as I could muster without feeling like my head was about to fall off.

I got back home. My neck was dead painful. Despite that, though, I noticed my phone wasn't in my jeans pocket anymore and I looked about the rooms I went in that day to see if I could find it. Heck, my mum even helped, which is a turn up for the books.

But I couldn't find it, nor could she. So I decided to go and retrace my steps back to Herry's (and crawl past her window if I had to... but no way was she gonna see me). And so off I went. My neck hurting more and more as I went along; so I had to keep it dead rigid...

I found my phone outside on the grassy verge next to my house, which was surprising, cos I hadn't been there.

I looked at it and it looked a little battered about, which figures, seeing as I'd probably dropped it. And when I opened it up and looked at the screen... it was dead. I could't turn it on. I couldn't do anything with it.

Someone murdered my phone. Evidently it was a hit and run, as it had been run over (and it must've flipped onto the verge, clever thing. Self-preservation, y'see, but the damage was already too great; bless it) and the car was no where in sight.

Either that, or it was suicide. Seeing as I'd been talking about getting a new phone recently, (and I don't mean to speak ill of the dead) but my phone was really ageing it was starting to forget to answer calls, or recieve them. The same with texts... and voicemail and wap were going downhill too. It's a sad existance, ain't it?

So anyway. I'm upset until I go into absolute agony. I can't sit or lay down or pretty much anything. Hurts too much to move. My mum put me to bed and told me not to move while she called a doctor. But doctor's a) don't like me and, b) don't make house visits, especially on a weekend.

They put her over to the HS helpline thingy. And the hour or so my mum and I wasted with that was an hour of my life wasted, as they basically did nothing. I think a mokey could have done their job as they basically did othig except ask me a load of really dumb questions like 'are you dribbling?' and 'do you have full control over your bladder?'

Erm. No. And FACK ORFF! Yes, damn you!

So off we [my mum and I], to the DRI. Alistair took us. Yes, I was surprised too. However I wasn't surprised to hear him utter the name 'Tony Blair' when he was driving. Because, of COURSE I care about politics when I'm dying and/or paralysed and/or looking very like Stephen Hawking with the whole neck on one side thing...

He dropped us off. I went pretty much straight through to see someone. A nurse saw me and didn't do a hell of a lot. The I waited about half an hour to see a doctor, which, for the DRI is v. v. v. v. quick.

The doc came and gave me some paracetamol and codine. The former was parp, the latter is amazing. Suddenly I'm not dreading the painters and decorators anymore. I am ARMED.

Then doc came back about an hour later. She decided to then check me for pain, which was dumb cos I was pretty much dead (by drugs, not pain) by then anyway and the pain was pretty much gone, except for a bit in the top of my neck.

She then gets this pin thingy out and asks me to feel if it's sharp. Now, I don't really have a big problem with pins and needles and stuff, but my brain went into overdrive at this new development, wondering what the fuck she was going to to with me.

Hell, I thought she was gonna shove it in ym neck, and suppose she missed and it hit my jugular or missed by... a lot, and hit my spinal cord!?

She did neither. She stuck it in my arm a few times and that was that.

Then I picked up my meds and went off to Bone's, where I was being heartily mocked.

Had a pretty good time at Bone's, but I swear I kept dozing off mid-... anything and I felt so tired (from the meds, I s'pose).

And then there was work experience, but now I cann't be arsed to talk about it, so I'll say some other time.