*with a second hand dress and lips of a temptress*

Some painting by David Hockney, blah blah blah...

Emerged from Ben's this morning broke and bleary-eyed. Spent the day doing homework and other more pointless things. I have 25 free songs on iTunes, but in truth I'm so used to illegal downloading that it really doesn't bother me. It's a little lonely here, but relaxing. Drank chunky soup for lunch. Eventually fell asleep on my bed at 2.30pm and woke up with a start almost late for class. Dragged myself to the bus and revised German verbs on the bus. Was just outside the centre when I remembered the class was cancelled this week. Fucking shattered and distressed by this point. Spent an hour in the library reading about collage and outsider art and then traipsed home with a heavy heart and an even heavier bag of hard-back art books. The bus home was some kind of ordeal. The stoned yet hyperactive person next to me spent 20 minutes graphically explaining why he believed Luigi from Supermario to be a woman (amongst other reasons "because she can do some nang acrobatics, you get me?"). At Mile End the bus stopped inexplicably for ten minutes, after which the bus driver announced people had been throwing rocks onto the bus from the bridge, and bizarrely asked "is everyone alright?". Just after Stratford the lights cut out and someone seized the opportunity of darkness and confusion to light a joint. That bus will be the death of me yet. Next time I'm getting the train, even if it costs me £4.30.

Thoroughly annoyed now because:
1) I wasted my entire evening going to Whitechapel on the bus for no reason.
2) Consequently I didn't spend it tidying up my room and doing my homework, boring tasks which I am now going to have to do tomorrow.
3) I missed the Holloways live on Zane Lowe.
4) I have to go to Bexleyheath tomorrow.
5) I have to go to work on Thursday.
6) I am bored of my job already after less than a month and I have to stick it out for another 11.

The only times I feel at ease at the moment are: when I'm drinking Coca-Cola, the rare occasions when I get a lie-in, and the even rarer ones when I manage to achieve a state of total detachment and escapism.

There's a long long list in my head of things I need/want to do once I finally get paid. The most interesting ones are: go and see Rodin, get tickets for John Hegley at UCL and book my ticket for Edinburgh. The more boring ones are: purchase socks, go to the optician and pay back the money I owe to various people. I now owe my parents £210. I hate this.

Pete Doherty has become a laughing stock on the Guardian letters page +_+
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