The following is perhaps the most callous thing I'll say for a long time, but:
Dear Kate and Gerry,
Get. The fuck. Over it.
I'm extra unsympathetic to them today because they've decided to cash in on the Fritzl case my wrangling themselves column inches just to say
Maddie might be in a dungeon like Elisabeth
. And it makes me callous and bitchy that they could be so disrespectful as to try and make someone else's tragedy about them. Yeah, it's probably media overexposure here, but just STOP IT ALREADY AND BE PROPER PARENTS TO YOUR SURVIVING CHILDREN.
OK, that's out of my system.
Yesterday was a bad day for me. A very bad day. Lack of sleep combined with painters in the flat ripping me out of my comfort zone, combined with not eating lunch, combined with the realisation that I fucked up on Important Stuff again
(I still have to go back to Belgium: I hated it the first time, failed at organising it the second time, and need a passport RIGHT NOW), led to -actually the first panic attack in some time.
But I'm able to write off the day as a bad day. I got myself through it, I recognised my wretchedness, I gave myself space, and I did
finally sort out the trip. It's going to be OK.
Today I have an interview re: volunteering to teach children at the Natural History Museum. I'm not by any stretch giving up on the Grant, but hopefully this can be a weekend position, and it's TEACHING KIDS ABOUT SCIENCE.
I am also taking the day to sort my brain and my work out. Get my diary up to date. Make sure I know what I'm doing with my life, and generally calm the fuck down.
But it's hard when, not only is the git wizard
not dead of aspyxiation, but Johnny Vegas
has not been arrested for serious sexual assault.
SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU VOTE CONSERVATIVE, PEOPLE?