Four

I've had a hectic four days.

Thursday I went to the LGLV exhibition and then to a pub, I remember stroking a girl's hand for ages then went to central. 

Friday is lost to me. I think that's the day I cooked curry in a vague attempt to be healthy, but then I think I went to the pub that day too. Friday is missing.

Saturday I went to the BOY London clothing party with Shane, Anna and Amy,I drank £18 whiskeys.

Last night I went to Rebel Bingo at Scala, was sober, some girl flashed me her tits on the dance floor, then I went to a house party and didn't sleep all night. 

It was the worst night of my life, my heart palpitations were bad. Then I wondered down Brick Lane and  couldn't stay because the smell of food was making me feel sick. I think I may have poisoned myself a bit with the curry I made too.

To save a liver please give Sophie Fraser a job by phoning 0800 333 444. 

Three

...and at once I knew I was not magnificent

Two

Tonight i'm in bed listening to Winehouse.  The only article I really could be bothered to read about her death was by Russell Brand, it was honest and really well written. http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2011/jul/24/russell-brand-amy-winehouse-woman

My friend Amy, ironically, used to always say, it's better to burn out than to fade away. I also watched Factory Girl today too. It was quite fitting.I'm going through a P45 period, which is a Party 45 time, where you spend a lot of time post work on destroying your liver and lining your lungs with tar. 

On Saturday I cycled from central to my house, it took about 3 hours as we made the route up as we went along, I've got the cycling bug. The only thing you can think about is not being run over by a truck, great for taking your mind off things. 

I'm not going to be much use to anyone for a week or so. 

One

Today is one of those days where I definitely should've risen from my bed and done something, anything, just been proactive. Instead i've drunk copious amounts of tea, made cheese on toast (twice, i'm ashamed of myself) and browsed the internet aimlessly. I've googled "Fraser Island" dreaming of escaping, looked at flights for tonight to Paris, nearly booked train tickets to Cornwall, all the while knowing that the likelihood of actually leaving my bed, even to go to the corner shop and buy more cigarettes is nil. 


I know it's completely ridiculous, because i've not actually got anything to be sad about at all. My father always said that I land on my feet, and a part of me knows I will. Thats not being arrogant, it's just when i'm not in this sort of lull, I can be proactive and a real "go-getter". I've got options and if things get tough i've got quite thick skin, but I'm just a bit slow to adapt to change.


I sort of made this blog with the intention of uploading all the things i've been involved with over the last year and make it  semi - professional looking, and that hopefully will get done, sort of an online portfolio but these things take patience and time and the right mindset. 


Isn't it funny that the older you get the faster time flies? The last year has been lightening fast, time flies when you're having fun and all those other sayings. I remember going up in the Channel 4 lifts thinking to myself, you've only got 8 weeks left, not long now. That felt like yesterday, I hadn't prepared for post Channel 4, I'd looked for placements and thought about work but mentally leaving and not going back, it's a strange feeling, like a really big comedown. I know that it's temporary and that it's just one small chapter in a long succession of hopefully successful adventures but it feels a bit like something is missing already.


I've become a workaholic, this is something a lot of my friends would've never thought.  


It's 6pm on a Friday afternoon. Monday I will rise at 9am and sort out the placement I was supposed to start, perhaps look for some others, pull my CV together a bit more and stop moping. But as Nicole Scherzinger quite rightly says - don't hold your breath.