All Nighter

Today, I have gone to bed at 7am.

I have a presentation to write, practise and present for Monday. I went out last night.

It was a friend's birthday barbecue. So I mingled, and I chatted and I didn't eat much and I haven't drunk in ages, so I was more than a little bit tipsy on only half a glass of wine. But it was fun. And I felt quite young, seeing as the friend is a postgraduate, consequently, most of his friends are of a similar age or status. And I felt quite girly, as the friend is male and studies science, so most of his friends are also boys. Or men, if you think mid-twenties is probably old enough to not be a boy anymore.

Later, we went out to a bar and onto a club, but the birthday boy and various friends went home and in the end it was just three girls. So I sat in the middle and I got my ear chewed off, hearing from my right and my left about boys, high hopes and dashed dreams. Although, I could see this coming from a mile off, what can you say to comfort a girl when that happens? Because, sweetie, it's clear he's just not that into you, there's no maybes about it. And I know you can't forget, and I know it's hard to stop wanting  and I know it's mighty frustrating waiting for something that may never come about, but now you've bitten the bullet and asked the question, so somehow, somehow, you just have to let it go. It's horrible being rejected, it really is, but it's better to try than to never know.

Don't ask; don't get. 

So, we stayed in the club 'til gone three am; they bought some chips; we met some new friends and all of a sudden, it's light outside and I'm going to bed at the time that my alarm should go off. Crazy. I am very, very tired and I have absolutely lost all motivation to study at all. I went past the point of caring a while back, and it's terrible, but I just can't do it. I've spent the day listening to the radio and identifying with almost every song they play. I've eaten waffles and pasta and cheese and flapjack. I haven't had enough sleep. I want to cry. A lot. 

This blog has become awfully autobiographical of late. 

On the jukebox: Dixie Chicks ~ You Can't Hurry Love