The Futher Rantings of Alasdair Corbett

It always surprises me just how much of a difference cleaning my glasses once in a while can make. No, really, it's like seeing the world in an entirely new light. Well, it's the same light but somewhat brighter.


Anyway, left things late again tonight. Annoyingly, I've settled into a routine now where I do nothing all day but play Half Life and worry about not doing my homework and then when it reaches around eleven, I'll pull up a NeoOffice document and start trying to hammer something out before it reaches half past. Then I browse the web for a while, realise that it's past midnight and climb into bed. I wake up just before eight in the morning, have a shower while still nine tenths asleep and go to the hospital. Repeat.

The pressure of the homework is really starting to get to me now – reports (or more accurately, instant messages) are coming in that say that even some of the laziest among my friends are well on their way to completing it. This isn't really helped by the lack of sleep.

The hospital appointments aren't likely to stop in the next while. They've been telling me for several weeks that it's healing very quickly and that it all looks well but no one seems to be able to give me even a rough estimate of when it might be good enough to stop needing packing. Not that the packing is staying in for more than a few hours anyway.

I also remember being told that the re-dressing would need to be done daily at first and then less frequently. I should probably have learned by now that everything they told me before cutting into my ass was a lie. It wasn't much of a problem before but now that my brother has developed the same thing, each appointment is taking twice as long. This is going to be a huge pain in the ass when I go back to school.

And I swear, if I'm not done with this by my birthday at the end of the month, there will be hell to pay.

Speaking of hell, I'm apparently going to my aunt and uncle's in Glasgow for lunch sometime this month. It's for my grandmother's 80th birthday and, while I'm very happy for her and everything, I see no reason why we're going up to Glasgow to celebrate her birthday when she lives a mile down the road. But no, my aunt has decided that everyone down here should pack into two cars and go up there and this has been decreed a wonderful idea by my grandma.

I could try using my wound as an excuse to stay out of a cramped car journey and the no doubt uncomfortable seats they'll have there but chances are it'll be healed sufficiently that that won't seem plausible. So I'm seemingly stuck with going up there, being bored and awkward for hours, having my mum get annoyed at me for not eating anything and then coming home to listen to complaints about why we should never have gone in the first place.

No use complaining I suppose. Not here anyway. I shall be doing a lot of complaining where and when it counts for something. I'll also be ripping all the audio dramas that came with my Davros boxset and putting them on my iPhone, just in case.


Well, it's slightly after half past so I missed my random average deadline but who cares? I certainly don't.

Have a nice day.