No post last night cos I was busy.
I worked yesterday and peeled a lot of potatoes. Petro was fascinated by a marinated duck he was dissecting, he wiggled around it's neck then pulled out it's heart to show the waitresses, was pretty cool. That's about it. Went home, tried to start homework. I'm losing motivation, this is bad.
Got a deluge of texts and such later, so I decided to head down the street. Met up with Jake and Sam at Jason's, where a whole lot of Jason's mates from Melbourne were hanging around. Since it was fairly dull, we got going, saw Jess, Annie and Caz on the way (weird), then went straight to Ringer's.
Didn't really do much. Only had a couple of beers because I thought I had work in the morning. We pitched in to buy Wakely a shot since it was his birthday the day before, then once everyone arrived we watched Sam win ten bucks off one of Jason's mates by beating him at pool. Headed to the mad, thumpin d-floor, which was pretty crap. Got bored, went home, not a bad evening out for $20.
Today, got up extra early, which hurt, went to work in a rush cos I thought I was late, then the boss told me to go home. Apparently, even though I was rostered on, it was going to be too dead to justify a dishie today. Hurm.
Went home, screamed through a whole lot of Keats articles, and now I'm about 300 words down on my creative response. I found a way in by treating it as an angry diary entry. But I keep going around in circles, I think I need Dosstimus Prime's help.
Tomorrow is going to be very meh, I think. Oh well. Gotta call a butcher and the driving place.