Pub!

Another week of not much. Slight panic mid-week when it transpired I really needed something of a timetable attached to my thesis plan for the upgrade paperwork, but once I'd cried a bit over that (and eaten a cookie) I managed to dredge up my supervisor's comments about how things should progress. So I should have a rought draft in July. Ha!

I attempted coffee time twice this week. Mostly didn't cry afterwards. A Certain Lecturer (ACL) was there and I didn't hassle him and I think I'm just about getting the hang of pretending I can carry on living without him, which is good as it's only a few weeks until he leaves. Also managed the pub this evening - was very pleasant and even stayed for a soft drink after ACL had left. See, I can manage this socialising malarky.

Terror has been...terrible this week. Still in a very whingy mood and fighting me every step of the way. Time out twice this morning, both times for running around and climbing on sofa/me when I told him not to (and for grabbing his sweets and refusing to hand them over at lunchtime). He's also had his moments of cuteness - like waking me up this morning by shoving his cd player in my face and telling me it wasn't working (he hadn't put the cd in properly so it wasn't registering a disc). He then quite happily `danced' along to the music - Dan Zanes and Friends' Catch That Train - while I was getting dressed. (Thanks to TomB for the present of that album - Daddy is a huge fan too!)

Also, Daddy saw doctor for his low moods and is also on citalopram. It's the antidepressant of choice at the moment it seems. Hopefully it'll help him more than it's helping me - although I do seem to be getting a little better. Maybe because I'm concentrating on just keeping on going. As tempting as running away from life is, I have a moral obligation to keep trying to cope. And currently, that seems to be enough to see me over each obstacle.

But I am going to miss ACL when he goes. Another reason I'm not looking forward to Christmas.

Marking marking everywhere

That's pretty much what last week was spent doing, apart from being depressed. And today - more marking! Hopefully I'll get a couple of days break after this though. I might even be able to do some "proper" work.

We went to my parents' for the weekend. It appears we forgot to tell any of our friends we were going though. Oops. Sorry for getting you worried. Had a nice enough time - the Terror loves his Grandma and Granddad so was in his element and we got some break from having to play with him all the time.

We even got to go out! On Saturday night we went into Durham and saw Beowulf. It was pretty damn good, despite the "dead eyes" effect you get with this style of animation. Also, the shots that are meant for 3D look a little....strange... when viewed in 2D but I'm not going to complain (it's not like I'd benefit from the 3D version anyway!). And Ray Winstone...is pretty good, but dear Odin - Cockney Beowulf?! The audience was in stitches whenever he said, "I've come to kill your MONSTA!" (Also, the young Beowulf looked so like Sean Bean you can't help wondering if Zemeckis really wanted him in the role instead.)

There were a few other unintentially funny bits, but really that just adds to the enjoyment of the film. In my eyes anyway, YMMV of course. But a film co-written by Neil Gaiman can't be bad. Especially if it has a mostly naked Angelina Jolie in it. Which brings me neatly to the other big problem with the film - the certificate. What were the BBFC thinking? 12A?! The violence and bawdy language might just about be acceptable in a 12, but who in their right mind would take a younger child...I imagine quite a few complaints will come from those not checking the film out fully first. Maybe I'm becoming a prude in my old age....

Bleugh

Just about sums up my week. Occasional high-points - got marking finished within a couple of days. Last night was good because a friend offered to babysit so we did our usual "dinner at Bella Italia then pub" night out. Was fun and didn't eat or drink too much. But the rest of the time was spent being depressed. And thus getting lots of people worried.

And now I'm hiding upstairs on the computer again instead of interacting with my family. Not the best start to the weekend really.

Why do I bother?

I mean seriously. Why? Why get up each day and try and put a smile on my face and drag myself through the motions? Does it really benefit anyone? I've had enough frankly. I can't be bothered anymore.

Pain!

Well, only a bit.

Wednesday I had my bottom right wisdom tooth out. Coped remarkably well if I do say so myself, helped slightly by the dentist being very nice and rather cute. Hasn't been too bad since but I've swollen up like a hamster making eating somewhat difficult. This was after all three of us had started to recover from colds, so this week has been fun-filled. If sitting around feeling not-very-well is your idea of fun, that is.

Been staving off depression fairly well until today. Oversleeping but that's only to be expected really. Today was...a struggle. The Terror's in a whiney mood again and I really didn't have the patience for it. Got letter back from Community Mental Health Team - being referred as outpatient to a psychiatrist and our former health visitor will be getting in touch for help and support with the Terror. I can't complain really as I'd expressed fears of not being able to cope, and the woman in question is very nice indeed, but....I know what I ought to be doing with him, it's just so hard to actually motivate myself. We'll see. Could be seeing the psychiatrist will also just end up being another chore and another thing to dread and wish I didn't have to deal with. Or not. We'll see.

Having got tea from the chippy this evening I nipped into the corner shop to get a couple of cans of Scrumpy Jack. Hubby still has plenty of beer left over from last weekend when he apparently didn't drink any of his own. Was absolutely gobsmacked by being asked for ID. I fumbled in my purse for a bit and tried to fob her off with credit cards and my university card but I knew she couldn't really accept them. Crushing sense of disappointment as I walked home, which led me to decide maybe I shouldn't just pick up my passport and go back for them. I shouldn't want a drink that much. But then I shouldn't want to speak to a certain person so much that every time he leave the coffee room I have to stop myself from bursting into tears, either. Blah.

Just got to keep on going. Always just got to keep going. Day after day after day. Maybe tomorrow I can buy cider. Or chocolate. Or even better, both.