I have no idea what to write about. I have no idea how I feel, or what I want to do, or ... anything. I'm having a braindead day, I suppose. I keep sneezing, my eyes feel really heavy and achy (even though I'm not tired), and my body feels like I've ran a couple of miles. Without the racing heart, burning lungs, and wheezing asthmatic coughs, of course. Although I'm not yawning-my-head-off-can't-wait-to-go-to-bed tired, I want to describe myself as tired. Even though I'm not. It's just the only way I can describe it. Hmm. Drained. That's what I'm going to call it. I feel drained. Drained of emotion, drained of energy, and drained of inspiration.
So, until I get ideas, shall I just tell you what's going on in my life? Boring, yes, but it's all I can think to say.
It's my best friend's birthday next week, and I already know what I'm going to get her. Problem is, the only time I can get it is at the weekend, which is when we were thinking of going to see Alice in Wonderland. If I cancel our plans*, then she might feel offended, and I don't want that to happen. However, if I'm going to get her the birthday present I have in mind, I HAVE to go up city to get it. Because I'm not going to find what I want in town. Why am I not telling you what I'm getting her? Because I'm paranoid and, even though she doesn't know about my blog and her internet is down, I'm scared she might somehow see this and find out about my present for her. I'll tell you what I got her on her birthday - next Tuesday - 'kay? That is, if I manage to get it. I hope I do. If not, I'll just have to put money in her card, which isn't the most amazing present in the world for your best friend, now, is it? ... Moving on ...
Anyway, what I'm about to tell you is kind of personal, so I feel awkward sharing it with you. I guess I'm just ... letting it all out. Heh. My grandad is in hospital, because he's having a pretty serious operation tomorrow. He'll be in there for over a week afterwards to recover, if the operation is successful. He has an aneurysm in his aorta, you see. We're lucky that the doctor found it before it burst - my nan's brother-in-law died when he had an aneurysm in his aorta, but they didn't know about it, and it burst. We're even luckier because the doctor wasn't even seeing my grandparents for my grandad ... it was for my nan. I can't remember why, but they got a doctor's appointment, and while they were there, my grandad mentioned he had stomach pains of something ... and then the doctor felt the aneuryism. So, anyway, yes. He went into hospital today, and the operation is tomorrow. He's living the life over there, though, I hear. He's in the private ward, in his own room, with his own TV, bathroom, etc. He had a four-course dinner, and people keep popping their head in and offering him tea. Apparently, the room costs £400. And we don't even pay for healthcare of over here like they do in America. And I shouldn't know any of this, but I overheard my nan and mum talking downstairs earlier after he called.
Moving on. Again.
I can't think of anything else to say ... I've been trying to create a "Happy" playlist. And then I realised that most of the music I listen to isn't the cheeriest of stuff. So I've been listening to Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber for the past hour or so. Sigh. What fun.
Keep blogging!
(I really need a new ending line. Heh).
*Again. We've been rescheduling Alice in Wonderland for weeks and weeks. It's getting ridiculous.
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