Well, I'm back from a week in sunny Northumberland, introducing a 10 month old puppy to the delights of the seaside and Hadrian's Wall. Had a good time, all in all, although there were a couple of days where the weather was atrocious. The main features included.

( If you're at all interested...: )

I feel dreadful. I seem to have caught an evil strain of man-flu, and when I went to the doctor's yesterday, he took one look at me and signed me off work (well, my Jobcentre work placement) for a fortnight. I now feel justified in bitching about how ill I feel.

Symptoms are as follows:  General all over aches
                                                 Headache
                                                 Swollen eyes
                                                Blocked sinuses and streaming nose
                                                Sore throat
                                                 Aching wisdom teeth (because they do every time I get ill)
                                                 Chesty cough
                                                  Temperature

As it is obvious that I shall not survive this illness, floral tributes may be sent to this journal...

On the bright side, I can now catch up properly on all I've been missing fanfiction wise, as steaming and labelling clothing donations all day is surprisingly tiring and usually gives me a headache. And definitely on the silver lining front, I won't have to deal with Hilary till next week at the earliest. A wonderful break from being treated like a moronic delinquent simply because I'm out of work. Yay!

*sneezes violently and decides to go cuddle the puppy*

Currently feeling very proud to be British. Comic Relief has raised over £57.8 million for disadvantaged people in Africa and the UK (that's US$80.6 million according to my currency converter). And apparently another £20 million is expected to come in over the next few weeks. That's a lot of money. And all this during the recession. Being broke at the moment, my donations have been limited to buying a Red Nose, voting for Let's Dance, and buying mini Babybels. But I still contributed, and if it wasn't for the fact that I need to eat (and can't live completely on small cheeses), I would have donated more. Mainly because the comedy is interspersed with the most horrendously tear-jerking films to remind you what it's really about.

And the first hour and a half was co-presented by David Tennant. Mmm :)

Finally! After two years of job hunting and innumerable rejections, I finally have an interview, Friday morning. The elation is starting to fade into sheer panic, so I'm already preparing my calming routines ready for the big day. The post is a Clerical Officer for the NHS, so if I get it I should be fairly secure, although you never know at the moment. I have new trousers, I've located my decent shoes (wearing heels after slumming around in trainers, walking boots and sandals should be interesting!) and I've been getting pep talks from friends and family.

In other, utterly irrelevant, news, I have finally completed Kingdom Hearts. Mostly. I've completed the story, and everything else apart from the Hades Cup Time Trial (because after 3 hours of trying I got bored), fighting Sephiroth (because I have difficulty concentrating on fighting him because I'm singing his theme song) and getting Sora's Cheer ability (because I can't be bothered). And you still get the bonus video of Roxas at the end.

Axel needs a hug. Many hugs in fact. The flashback Roxas has when he's leaving the Organisation made me sad. Poor anti-Reno. And now I love Roxas too. Though it's nice to be playing with Sora again - ack, that sounds bad. Got as far as the Pirates of the Caribbean world which is an interesting mix of animation styles. On another note, does Mickey realise how utterly useless his disguise is? His silhouette is only one of the most famous ever.

Hmm, this is getting a bit rambling. And the puppy's just had an accident... :S

On Friday, George got worse. He had been refusing to take his medication whatever he tried (to the extent of holding it in his throat and then vomiting it back up :S) , was groaning most of the time, and was completely incontinent. So, we had to have him put to sleep. It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be: very upsetting, but not traumatic. When he died, he looked happy, peaceful, and painfree, so we know we definitely made the right choice, which helps a lot. The vets were really supportive, too: we didn't have to wait in the waiting room, and we went out the back way.

This weekend, we have been carefully keeping busy. I've found that I'm almost completely normal until I think about it or catch sight of something we forgot to put away, at which point I tend to quietly dissolve into tears. But I'm fairly calm most of the time, so thankfully I don't think I'm going to make myself ill, which is always a bonus.

And... WE HAVE HEATING! At least we can be warm and miserable now. Although it's a temporary cobble-up, as we wait for yet another part that has still to arrive - we can't actually turn the heating off, so we have to turn the radiators off manually at the moment. But it's just so nice to be warm without having to wear 6 layers.

Why is it just when you feel like you're getting on top of life, something happens that knocks you right back down again?

George is my dog, a 15 year old Springer Spaniel. He's completely loopy, a rescue dog, and we've had him since I was 9. When I was walking him on Tuesday, he slipped and fell down a bank, and hurt his back. The vet says it's not completely hopeless, but although he can walk better now, he's seeming vaguer than usual, he's become more incontinent, and it's becoming more and more likely that we're going to have to have him put to sleep. We've got until Monday, really, to decide.

I'm bawling my eyes out already. To make things worse, both my brothers are away, one at uni and the other at army training, and I'm having to support Mum on my own. George is everything to her, especially since my dad left, and I'm really scared this could give her another breakdown. If we have to go through with it, she's going to go to pieces.

And here's the selfish bit: I don't want to have to be the strong one here. Last week I was considering cutting down on my anti-depressants, and right now I don't think I could get out of bed without them. George was one of the few constants when my life got turned upside down. Whenever I was upset, you could guarantee he'd come and sit with me. What's killing me right now is he doesn't understand why I'm crying, and he's trying to make me feel better. Which, of course, is making me cry harder. And the absolute last thing I want to do right now is be calm, strong, and comforting. I want to have the luxury to cry my eyes out without worrying it's going to make matters worse. I want someone to lie to me and tell me everything's going to be alright. And I miss my dad more than I have for the past eight years, because George is the last thing from back when we were a normal two parent family. I'm 22, damn it, I should have got over that by now. And I keep thinking if only I'd kept a better eye on him, looked round sooner, just done something differently, this wouldn't have happened.

I know all the sensible points: he's very old now, his quality of life is decreasing, it's not fair to keep him alive just because we can't let go, etc. Doesn't make it any easier. If we knew he was in a lot of pain it might make the decision itself easier, but I don't think anything is going to make this easier.

Sorry about this, but I needed to vent. I shall stop now, mainly because I can't see the screen any more.

Your result for The Mythological Goddess Test...

Minerva

Indeed, you are 71% erudite, 50% sensual, 46% martial, and 58% saturnine.

Take The Mythological Goddess Test at HelloQuizzy

I think I can cope with being the goddess of war and wisdom :D. Athena was always my favourite goddess anyway (I'm a mythology fan and have an unfinished degree in Ancient History)

I am cold. I am stressed. And there is a rat in my kitchen. Stupid cat. If she brings things in, I prefer her to kill them so I can just remove the carcasses. My brother, who is home from the army for the weekend, started behaving like a hysterical teenage girl and insisting that the rat would eat his face in his sleep. My mother is away trekking in India. First thing Monday, I'm touring the hardware shops for humane traps.

The central heating is still broken. The plumber who has the parts has been taken into hospital, so until he's back at work (which I've been assured will be some time next week, so it can't be too serious, thankfully), I have to be cold.

And as far as writing goes, I am desperately trying to get behind Rude's shades. Having trapped myself into writing Rufus/Rude, which is not a pairing I was expecting to happen, I need to work out why he's acting the way he did. Hmm. Think I'll go look at Before Crisis scripts for some ideas.