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I honestly think the universe is out to get me.  Yes, I am that important.

No, out to get me is the wrong sentiment.  Out to make me feel like crap. Yes, that’s more like it.

You may think this is me just whinging but oh-ho bear with me.

Yesterday I wrote the post that I have received a number of emails about – one calling me a ‘fucking bitch’ and telling me I ‘must be one of those rich fuckers that can go on holiday whenever the fuck I want’ and that I ‘obviously have no fucking idea how the world works’; the next telling me that I should stop being so ‘snobby and let people talk and write however they want’.  The same email told me that it was people like me that stopped the writer getting anywhere in school (well skool as the writer spelled it.  No comment.)

That was first thing this morning.  I went back to bed.  I know.   Lazy cow.

I woke up at 2 this afternoon and felt sick so my plan of going through everything I own to try and find things for the Table Top Sale the scout group is having next weekend went completely to pot.  I now have to do this tomorrow because oh right news!  I have a temp job starting on Monday for a couple of weeks, meaning I am going to be quite the more tired individual.

The tiredness.  Oh holy crap it sucks so much.  I could sleep all day everyday. I can’t wait for my blood tests in 3 weeks.  PLEASE let them show something that can be fixed.  I will take more pills, anything!  I am still on the referral list for the councillor and waiting patiently but I need a quick fix to get me through the current time before everything else starts to work.

Sigh.

These evening Last NIght of the Proms was on.  I love this, it’s a huge tradition for me.  I watch it every year without fail.  It’s unashamedly patriotic and it makes me believe for a couple of hours that this country has a hope, that it isn’t going to hell, that we really are GREAT Britain. Tonight, I was watching it with my mum and brother and I felt guilty for singing along and feeling something.

There was a commissioned piece played composed by Anna Meredith called ‘froms’ that was performed musicians joined together from the four Proms in the Park and the Royal Albert Hall over the satellite feeds.  It was brash and loud and confusing and wonderful and throbbing and oh… I was in tears.  It was magnificent.  I loved it.  My mum and brother, however, hated it.  They talked through it or started to and then must hae caught the murderous look in my eyes.

At the end of the performance they played Jerusalem and the natioanl anthem which are almost religious experiences for me.  I sing them both full throated and with no shame… usually… but after all the sighing and grumbling I felt shamed into almost whispering them.  I cried because of the lack of emotion in the room.  The Proms for me are like most pieces of music – all about emotion.  They give me a chance to feel something more than the horrible blah that I usually go through.

I don’t know what to do.  All I do know is that I… know nothing about how the world works.