There's nothing you can't aaaassskkkk, on the Savage Lovecasttt....

   So I meant to save this until later but I need to just write it down before I'm too much of a chickenshit, before it continues to eat me up a little.

   Last week was little better than the first week of classes. I got far too little sleep for not having my weekends, and the tiredness left me feeling physically unwell. On Thursday night I was driven to just cry which only helped a little bit. Friday was our first day at the Globe, and I was honestly not impressed. It was bitter cold and we sat in the Globe (open-air theatre) for an hour and it was more or less the same lecture I received there back in November when I went for Jacobean. So that was a bit disappointing. I booked it to Strand after that to see about how long it would take and it was half an hour all in all and I was beat to shit by the time I made it up to the history classroom. I had skipped history lecture for Globe that day but I did do two of the readings so I had some semblance of what was going on. Niko came back to that class which meant more messing around towards the end than I should have done. Then I madly quoted America fuck yeah before I ran off so I could make it back to the Globe in time for my workshop. I literally took a bus just around the corner to the end of Waterloo bridge and then the wind was against me the whole way. That day was one of the only days that I've blatantly thought that I hate London. I actually made it to the Globe with 13 min to spare apparently, and I collapsed on a bench with a headache.
   There was a boy I had spoken to in lecture sitting on the ground and Michelle was talking to Sarah, so I went and pow-wowed with him on the ground and found out his name is Ollie. I told him that only British guys could pull off that name and we laughed about how nasally it sounded coming from me. I found out he was born in America and came here when he was 7. He did a near-perfect American accent and it was really amusing. Our workshop was just us doing acting exercises to explore the space of the theatre but again, it was so cold that holding the sheet with the monologue made my hands hurt. I wasn't a happy camper and was grateful when it was done. I think the other sessions should be better though.
   Work this weekend was ok. I'm officially halfway through, although I did ask if I could add one weekday shift so we'll see about that. Saturdays are always the best for reaching people. We called teachers, who were generally really nice. And UCL alumni. I feel like the London graduates are the civilised ones. They are always willing to give more time. I actually was chatting with a few of them. Some guy told me he liked my accent, but why anyone would ever like an American accent is beyond me. Another guy was sooo nice; while he looked for his postcode, we chatted about living in London. It's calls like that that make me happy and make the time go faster. Sundays always drag though, especially towards the end. You feel like shit for bothering people on a Sunday afternoon/evening. And we worked right up until the end. But there was a lot of work camaraderie. Richard and Florien have an annoying tendency to compare people's jobs and how much they make and they judge the people who went to school for something like fine art when they're not employed six months after graduating. So I finally told them to lay off and it turned into a joke, which I was grateful for. James, who was sitting at the next table over, would always be just sitting there smirking and throwing in his bit, entertained by our conversations. We were talking about American culture and someone asserted that hip hop was American culture. More jokes. It was just funny and I felt slaphappy because no one was picking up the phone so there was lots of time for here and there comments. Also, I found out how to pronounce Gloucestershire (cus we started on that uni as well). I was so nervous each time I had to say it.  And Sara is so nice. I'm happy that I met her cus even when she was late yesterday and sat at a different table, we both still moved together to chat at break times.

Now for the heavy bit. When I want it, I need a lot of attention. Constantly. And no one can give me that. I've been mulling over things for the past week (cue my tired sickness and too much music and realizing that I just needed QUIET to make the debate in my head stop), and I guess I realised that I don't know how to take care of myself. Not when it comes down to it. I look to other people, but it took until today to see that no one is capable of the job right now. I don't know that it's fair of me to ask. After I wasted my time last night, I realised that I put myself out there too much. I make myself available all the time and that means available to be stomped on, even if it's not meant. I kind of can't wait for work to be over because I just need a sleep in day where I do nothing and don't leave the building. I don't think I'll really get that for the next two weeks. I guess I can deal with that, but I just need the mental health day. I feel like I need to cocoon away, to wrap up inside myself and not let anyone in. Cue just watching Psych (my brother was right, when it was actually laugh-out-loud funny) and being with me. I don't know. I feel sad. Yes, that's right, I feel fucking sad. I have the right to be. But I guess it's up to me and me alone to get over it. In due course I suppose.
Well, I have to go read about rape and mutilation...Titus Andronicus...ta.