And then I'll dream of moons and horror shows...

Why did the torrential rain have to start just as I was leaving work? I am soaked to the skin.

I declare myself the second person to write about camping. It was incredible. A whole field to ourselves, food, drink and continuous merriment for three days. Although I am covered in cuts and bruises from tripping over, playing cricket and walking through forests it was worth it, I am no longer as depressed as before, and it was a marvellous break from working (despite Monday's crazy Debden-to-Wanstead commute.)

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A mental woman came into the shop four times today to ask if we sold Ribena. (Ribena! In a pharmacy!) I looked on her prescription and discovered she was 96. She didn't just look bonkers and forgetful either, she looked lost and completely panic-stricken. It scares me how lonely and confusing old age can be. Later on my boss got ridiculously pissed off just because I charged someone the wrong amount on their credit card. He made me do three hours of dusting because apparently my brain "clearly isn't ready for work like this". It was not a good day. I had to leave everyone this morning at 6.30am to get back home, having had about four hours' sleep. I also feel a bit ill and sleep-deprived, unsurprising as the whole trip was pretty reckless...

In a good way though. x