Day One

Been one of those days. Don't know exactly what a 'those day' is exactly, but today was one. First off, i've got fourteen language 'conversation topics' to write about. Thats two lots of seven pointless scripts about meaningless rubbish that nobody wants to listen to a wannabe english person stutter through for twenty or so minutes, with a crap french or german accent. Who does listen to those tapes anyway... whoever it is.. i feel sorry for them. It's bad enough having to speak it, but i'm sure listening to it over and over is even worse. Unlucky.

Last night was amazing though. Danced at the Regent Theatre. Just saying it makes me feel proud; perhaps one of those things off the checklist. Everyone must have a 'checklist'. You know, 100 things to do before you die sorta thing. I've got loads. Many are unachievable, many easy reachable; but i'm often just too lazy to do it. For example, do the splits. I mean, yeah it's great to answer the question "Hey, can you do the splits?" with "Yeah, easy!" but it's a hell of a lot eaier said than done! Sure, the end result is preeeetty good, but getting there is no fun.

Seem to be stressed all the time at the moment. Hate to sound like an miserable old bag, but "i miss the good ole days".. but it's true. I wish i could do what i used to... Just watch tv all night long, lie in all weekend, not have any worries like how much bloody language stuff i have to learn and memorise, how much homework i have to do, how little time i have 'till exams, deadlines.. the list goes on. But i can't see any time in the near future when thats gonna come back. Never? Probably. I mean this year, undoubtedly, going to be h e l l. I was stressed for the mocks, imagine what i'm gonna be like the real time round. And then, sixth form... Also no easy ride. Followed by six years of university- that's if i get in. There's, yet again, another worry. Am i going to get into university!? People would think i'm attention seeking if i said this. Obviously, i know i could get into university, i think anybody who works can... But, i truly doubt that i can to be a vet. It's something like 38 people all fighting for each i n d i v i d u a l place in uni. What makes me different to all those 38? Or perhaps even as good as. This is assuming that i get staight A's in Blodge, Chemistry, Maths (*braces for a TUT*) English or German. And i hate to moan, but there's another thing. I can't decide what to do out of English or German. You know when something just sticks in your head and you can't forget it? Yeah. Well i got that when my english teacher said to me "you are being falsely modest" when i said that my piece was rubbish. But the thing is, i was/still genuinely belive/d that it was/is. I just can't seem to get my words from brain to paper; thats if i even have anything to say in the brain in the first place. But, the thing is.. i have no confidence with stuff like this. In fact, i'm r e a l l y surprised that i'm even managing to do this now. I really should be in bed, its 23:11 and i've got an early start tomorrow but for some strange reason i've got alot to say.

I don't really get the point of this blogging lark. But i'm beginning to see why some people do it. Besides, who in their right mind would want to read the boring, uninteresting life and times of rosa leedham!? Similar to who wants to listen to me burble through the damn language speaking exams. It's slightly stalkerish actually. The blog-readers; not the speaking exameners. It's like saying to some randomer "here, hey! Random person... take a look in my diary!" I go through stages in life where i vow to keep a diary, and to write in it every day. At one point, i did great-- finished a whole book. The thing is, i started off really neat, and thorough.. Pages and pages at a time and eventually it disintegrated (probably spelt wrong) into just a meer note "Sorry; no time". Who was i apologising to? There was, and still is no law with punishments against any little wimp who did not put a diary entry in for one day is there? Nope. But anyway, perhaps i'm gonna get into this blogging business. Still don't quite understand why someone would want to show their diary to a strange, potentially old man with a beard and false teeth- why that makes a difference i don't know.. but hey. But yeah, we'll see how it goes.

Anyway, best go. It's late and i must be on full alert as a waitress tomorrow- god help me. Three months into the job and i'm finally managing to stop making stupid stupid mistakes. Still, get paid.. what's the difference?

Nightnight.
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