Man, I despise nostalgia. Just spent a few hours having the annual chat to Lindsey T, school sweetheart, about what-could-have-been. It's all-good for shits and giggles but it just re-animates feelings that died a long time ago and is made even more fruitless by the fact that everything else has changed and it's impossible to hook up anyway.
Also diagnosing myself with another condition, Alcohol Induced Soft-Core Kleptomania (Not to be confused with Necrophilia). I woke up this morning with a new, huge road sign at the foot of my bed. Added to my growing collection of items that have made their way into my room and it's pretty obvious I have a minor condition.
The health plan's finally starting to produce some results. With the working out and proper eating I'm beginning to feel and see some changes. Upper body strength is up and with the consumption of fish on a daily basis my head feels much sharper. Also, with resolutions in mind, moving out is now on the back burner. I just realised how unappealing working full time is, and that some major sacrifices of in my current lifestyle would be required just to make ends meet. I guess it's better waiting 'til a full wage is thrown in my direction, making money an obsolete issue.
Vimto is getting it's own paragraph now, and not just because it tastes like you're drinking Ribena straight out of someone's arse. A bottle that had done nothing all day just exploded over my keyboard, and I just realised that it's an anagram of Vomit (which ironically leaves a better after-taste in your mouth). Everything about this so-called 'drink' is wrong.
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