After finishing the blog post last night, things took a turn for the worst. Writing it made my mood drop dramatically. Bad times occurred.
The first breakdown:
Okay, technically the second breakdown, because I cried all the way here in the car on Sunday. #noshame. But for some reason, I just couldn’t bring myself to leave the bedroom and make a sandwich. There were people in the kitchen, and my brain couldn’t deal with it. Opening and closing the door more times than I can remember, I ended up sinking to the floor. Leaning back, I covered my mouth with my hand as I started to uncontrollably sob.
I asked my boyfriend if I could phone him. Nope. He was too tired. I ranted to my mum, one of my best friends and my new university friend. Nothing could stop the tears. I briefly wondered whether one could drown to death in ones own tears. It wouldn’t have surprised me, the state I was in last night.
Deciding that I needed to transfer universities, I rapidly sent off three emails to institutions around the country. Apparently it’s too late to transfer, so that was pointless anyway, but I was desperate. You need food to survive, and I can’t even set foot in a kitchen?!
About three hours later, I calmed down. I can’t remember what calmed me, but for some reason I decided: no. I’m going to make my sandwich, and then I’m going to go to bed. And that’s exactly what I did.
Harry Potter and the Cursed Kitchen:
Thinking it can’t get worse than this? You’d be wrong. Waking up in the cold light of day, I was hit with the memory of how much I’d cried the night before… And I instantly started crying again. Texting my boyfriend, we had a lovely chat and he gave me some really great advice, sending me the longest text I’ve received in my life. I can’t wait to see him tomorrow afternoon.
Dragging myself out of bed, I headed to the kitchen to make toast.
Within minutes, a random man was walking in. Why does this happen every time I go into that godforsaken room? Am I cursed? Is the kitchen itself the problem?
He had a very thick accent, and I couldn’t catch what he was saying other than “kitchen cupboards”. I nodded blankly. Yes, he was pointing at the kitchen cupboards. I couldn’t comprehend further than that. Then his team come sauntering in and start emptying all of the cupboards, nodding at me to do the same. I put my stuff on the worktop, then fled back to my room with my toast and lukewarm “hot” chocolate. I didn’t sign up for that.
As soon as I’d eaten, I felt fine. My mood is dictated by my stomach. I need to eat more.
What ARE parks?:
Having seen Waterparks in Bristol last week, I knew what to expect from the show. Or so I thought…
After a lot of difficulty finding mum in the train station (who knew how large Kings Cross actually is?!) we had a much smaller amount of time to get food than we’d been expecting. As I’ve hardly been eating, this was my priority. Because I wasn’t a fan of Chapel and the queue was too long to get in without missing The Bottom Line, we decided to go for dinner and skip the supports. It’s something we hardly ever do, and I feel a little guilty about it now, but eating is a necessity! Generic pop-punk and bland synth-pop are not.
I’ve decided I’m going to review the Bristol show instead of the London date, because The Fleece is a far superior venue. This was our first time visiting Camden Underworld, and if we didn’t have tickets for blessthefall on Monday, I don’t think we’d go back. It’s very claustrophobic, and because the stage is lower than the crowd it’s sort of impossible to see what’s going on. They also played High School Musical, One Direction and Taylor Swift while Waterparks were setting up – cringe!
The crowd reaction made me roll my eyes more than anything, though. Waterparks target audience are obviously a lot younger than I am. With ear-piercing shrieks erupting every time a new song started (just while the band were setting up, not even during live music), it was exasperating. There’s a reason I don’t like clubs, and normally live music doesn’t give off the same all hype no heart atmosphere.
For some reason, they closed with ’21 Questions’ instead of ‘I’m a Natural Blue’. I certainly questioned that decision. It’s not powerful enough to close the show.
An early night:
Thankfully, the band finished before 10pm. That meant I could make it back to Hatfield before the last bus left the train station. I’ve been in my pyjamas for nearly an hour already – it’s bizarre!
Tomorrow, I’m finishing ‘Straight Outta Crongton’, which I’ve been working hard on all day. I loved the first two installments in Alex Wheatle’s series, and I’m nervously excited about how this one’s going to end. It’s far more brutal than the first two, and there’s a decided lack of humour. It’s tense.
I have to attend a tour of the Learning Resources Centre, but after that I’m heading home for the weekend. It’s ironic: they’re teaching us about the Dewey Decimal System and how to locate the books we need, and that’s been my job for the past two years… If it wouldn’t mark my attendance down at the outset, I’d totally skip it.
But I’ll be getting back to Swindon at 6pm, when I’m going to talk to my boyfriend, have a cry and maybe see some of our friends. I don’t know whether I’ll update over the next few days – it’s not exactly a UniDiary if I’m in Swindon… Check back for Day 6 at some point, though!