(Now with punctuation.) Oh fuckety fuck. How much worse does it have to get, before it starts getting better? My back is killing me, my head aches, I have no motivation, no drive. I'm wrapped in one big, messy bundle of uncouthness. Can't be more specific, not until next week. I can't even count the days till December, doesn't bear thinking about. What's a girl to do? Just get up each morning, drown her sorrows in something that vaguely resembles coffee, try and keep a smile on her face, try not to be swamped by the enormity of it all.

All this, what for? Don Quixote, windmills and all that jazz. If I'm still where I am now in a year's time, just shoot me.

Here's what I bought:


L-R: Zara cardi, Bershka handbag and court shoes, Zara sandals. All for under 90 euros.