Liquidity Crisis

So, my bank sends me weekly alerts regarding the state of my financial position. It's pointless really, considering that there is a severe credit crunch occuring in my world. Liquidity crisis at 0.31 cents. UK cents. So around 50 american cents. Kind of pointless converting, seeing as I am now a beggar. Proper poverty.

Of course, dad's plastic is really the saving grace at the moment, seeing as even an ano (apparently, short for anorexic) would need atleast 10 pounds weekly to survive in this city. Atleast.

Which is why I need a job.

I guess around the time the volcano hit, I had a personal underwater volcano erupting. I am entering the world of indepedance, of grow-up-ti-tude and I need to embrace the coming responsibilities. As in, take any fucking job that comes your way.

And at 0.31 cents in the bank, I need to start looking elsewhere.

But for some reason, I am welcoming this "throw your resume into the gauntlet, and see where it gets you".

I think the whole the Russian, mom, crazy german thing during the last few months has left me in a state of turmoil...from which I am finally get out of. It's been nearly a month since I've returned and thanks to a virus that's kicking me off of skype, I don't have to call the parentals. And believe, I don't want to. Apparently, la mere is worried that I haven't called. Why? So that you can lash at me every which way? Yea fucking right.

So I've returned to what I know best: gyming and food. Finally regained some sense of normalcy in my world, stopped eating massive loads of nuts in attempt to be healthy and am actually living on spinach. Okay spinach with a few nuts and a dash of dressing, but still. Salads are the way of the future. I'm telling you.

Combined with 300+ reps of various ab crunching routines and atleast 600 hard cardio...well. You get the picture. Ofcourse, my exam prep has not come under way, with four incredibly tough quant based exams coming first. Oh who am I kidding? They're all quant based, and here I am watching Maid in Manhattan, brazenly following the ever exciting British elections (lib dems, just side with the conservatives and we'll call it a week shall we? now where's the tea), and just puffed a smoke after four days of staying away. Trust me, I have my habits under control. Smoking has lost it's pleasure but I will be seeing this pack through. Seven more to go. Fuuuuck.

I have a strange feeling the Russian be entering the picture in a couple of months. Comrade has been mentioning him far too many times and it almost seems as if he's becoming his friend's mouthpiece. I am merely a text away, an FB message away you idiot, you want to talk to me, just talk to me. This time, if I am correct, it's going to be different. Confidence, and self-respect are the name of the game, and I will not let this boy take me for a ride. No no no no.

Seriously folks, an oxbridge degree doesn't shield one from being a total moron. Ugh. Boys. They suck.

In return for carrying his B/N digital reader thing, Comrade brought me chocolate that was meant to taste like pot. It was nice. He has a girlfriend. Must. not. fall. for. him.

Why are my posts becoming so mundane? It's because I have no life outside this living room.

And that's my weekly update.

Cheers bitches.

Belle