je suis Esquimaude

It snowed in parts of Scotland yesterday and they predicted that it would snow in Glasgow. I was all excited but snow never came. I came home and watched the weather report. NO snow for glasgow but they said it would reache a maximum of 5 today. So when I got up this morning to go to my bullshit work, I made sure I rugged up. I wore a t-shirt, a jumper, a fleece jumper and this hardcore jacket which I think is for skiing. I even wore thermals under my jeans. when I left the house, because I was so rugged up and because I was walking I didn't really feel the cold. I felt comfortable. I even sent a cocky message to DK saying how it wasn't very cold.
I get to work five minutes early as usual(I hate being late) and I sit down and read my book. Ten minutes later, I start to feel the cold but incomprehensible boy should arrive any minute with the key. Twenty minutes pass and I'm cursing incomprehensible boy. Thirty minutes...I decide to text the poz, my manager. No reply. So I ring, goes straight to message bank. I have no other number to call. I'm really feeling cold by this stage and my feet start to go numb. The sky turns grey. Things start to fall out of the sky. It's snow. Normally, I would be quite excited by snow and would be jumping up and down like a lunatic but I was frozen. An hour later, it's sonwing quite heavily and I am really feeling sorry for myself, my feet ache from the chill and everything is wet from the snow except for the jacket(thanks mum and dad!) and I am seriously hating snow. Still no sign of incomprehensible boy and no word from Poz. I try to walk up and down the street to keep myself warm but it doesn't work. I want to cry....After about 90minutes of standing in the cold, one of the regulars turn up in his van. He offers for me to sit inside the van. I nearly burst into tears.(I've been crying a bit too much since i've arrived, blody hell)I wait for two hours and decide it's time to leave them a note and go somewhere warm. I walk up the road and find a cafe, I sit there contemplating whether I should go home. I don't and I go back to work and voila incomprehensible boy is there. Hoorah.
I can honestly say, I've never been so cold in my life. I have also never felt so miserable in my life.
It doesn't sound too bad in writing but I can assure you it was definitely not funny and I don't think this will be one of those moments where I'll look back on and laugh about.......
On a positive note,(don't you just love how I always end on a positive note?)I finally got paid and feeling a bit proud of myself for that. Most importantly, DK and I are off to France tomorrow for a week for a holiday. Technically speaking, I've been on a holiday since September so I can't really call my trip to France a holiday but what do you do. I am sooo looking forward to getting out of here for a while and just not having to worry about anything AND I'll be able to understand what they are saying to me!
I shall return in a bit over a week with many tales from la france!!!

I know I shouldn't think that I'm too good for my bullshit cafe job but is it wrong to think that I have done my fair share of shitty jobs during my extended student life? Wasn't that the whole reason why I got that piece of paper? Is it really wrong of me to want a proper job? I mean, I'm a fuckn great teacher! Why won't they give me a job????!!!!!!!!(OK, this whole paragraph sounds really arrogant but I'm losing the plot so bear with me.......)
I did an extra shift at the bullshit cafe and it's just so boooorrrrriinnggggg! I have exhausted my sudoku spirit and I can no longer face those bloody squarea again.(Mind you, I still haven't mastered the thing, I've just overdosed) I was so bored at work today, I found myself correcting and explaining to one of the regulars why roll and bacon was wrong for a bacon roll. AHHHHHHH! The problem is, the boredom doesn't end at my bullshit work. I come home and there is nothing to do. Especially now that Iggy has been sent off to Apple land. Last night, I couldn't even face watching crappy tv. You know what I did? I got out my functional grammar text book and started reading it from page one. Yep. Functional grammar. Oh Camba, can you belive it? I have no money to spend, no friends to spend it with.(Squish squish, yeah yeah, I should fuckn get over it)
And I serisouly believe I am losing the plot. I was walking home today and I saw a dog. Just an ordinary dog on a leash. I had this sudden urge to kick it as hard as I can and laughing as it would shoot to the other side of the road. I didn't but the whole point is that I thought of it. What's wrong with me?
I can't wait for my little holiday across the channel. I think it'll do me a world of good.
I also saw bitch-face today walking down the road. (Did I ever tell you about bitch face? SHe doesn't deserve an entry but bascially she's the bitch who made my life hell when I first got to Glasgow) I wanted to run up to her and spit in her face and laugh at her. Then I realised I would be the loser if I did that.
On a brighter note, I borrwed books from the library today so I should be able to occupy myself for a wee while. Gee weez, I'd kill for a spliff right now.

The latest sagas in my life....
Iggy, my laptop is busted. I pushed the screen back too far and the hinge is gone. COnsdiering I only bought the bloody thing in September. I would think that it should be covered by warranty. I mean I don't have super powered hands which could have caused that much injusry to a new machine. I take it to a dealer as in Glasgow there is no apple store.(just my luck non?) The guy tells me about this other customer whose laptop was run over by a car yet the hinge survived and yet he still reckons my Iggy won't be covered by warranty. I mean does it make sense? A car runs over it and it survives, I push the screen back and the hinge goes. What the? Anyway, whether it be covered by warranty or not, I still have to pay this guy 40quid for shipping. Fukcn hell. Loving glasgow even more.
Secondly, DK lost his keys the other week so I got a second set cut today. Do they work? Of course not! How naive of me to think that after all the sagas I have had here that they would get this right? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
It's bullshit basically.

My lfe wouldn't be complete without the continuous sagas. So here are some sagas I've been having lately. I'm sure there'll be more.
by the way, I've been slowly putting photos up on flickr.Check it out when you have a chance

The boiler saga continues. So far, I have had four visits by three different men, each with their own suggestions and advice and two parts replaced. It's still not functioning properly and if I have to spend another day trapped at home waiting for another plumber/engineer to come, I'd rather freeze to death and never have a shower again.
This is a joke, that's what this is.

My parents were a bit worried that their youngest daughter might freeze to death, so they sent me some winter stuff over. They wanted to make sure that I would receive it as soon as possible so they sent it through a courier company.
They came when I was at work, so they sent me a "sorry we missed you" card. I follow the instructions on the card and ring them to re-arrange a delievery. The fuckwit on the phone does not listen to me and goes on and on about how there will be an automatic delievery the next day when I'm trying to tell him that I won't be home. He finally shuts up and listens and follows my instructions. I ask it to be diverted to DK's work as they couldn't tell me what time the parcel would be delievered except that it would be sometime between 9 and 5.(Here we go again)
I give him my name, my address and my referencec number. He takes them down and I get off the phone. The next day, I am all excited. I love getting parcels and the whole day is spent wondering what could be in the parcel. I meet up with DK after work to pick up the parcel. It is not my parcel. The name, the address, the reference number are all different to mine.(It was delieverd to reception at DK's work so he didn't notice it till I did) I'm outraged. How can you not cross reference the reference number to the customer details? Isn't this like the first thing you are trained to do? The timing couldn't have been worse. The boiler saga had been going on and this parcel saga just made me hate this city even more. I promise myself I would abuse the shit out of them the next day. I ring them the next day. No aplogy, just "I don't know how it could have happened". I don't abuse them but I organise another delievery. So a week later, I finally have my parcel. I can't get over how inefficient everything is...This post could have been longer and rantier but I just got my parcel so I'm too happy to go on. I'll stop now.

HSBC was clever enough to realise that there was a niche market for helping Australians open their UK bank accounts in Australia. Since opening a bank account is even harder than rocket science, I decided to cough up the exorbitnat fee and open an account. To be honest, it wasn't the most convenient idea as there was only one branch you could go to, to finalise the account and that one branch being in London meant coughing up more money to go to London for a day. You also had to open the account at least six weeks prior to your departure as that was the amount of time needed for the paper work to go through.(SIX WEEKS?!) Despite all this, I still knew this was a better option than going through the bullshit that is required to open an account in the UK as a foreigner. After I handed over my life saving, I asked the chap whether I would receive any confirmation from London about my account. His reply was, "no, not really". I wanted to grab his tie and scream, "what do you mean, not really? I've just handed over my life saving and all you can tell me is that?" But of course I didn't and walked out of there felling a bit uneasy about it all.I did have to tell them what day I would arrive in the UK, and I was told that everything would be ready for then. Anyhow, so I skip the country to come to the UK. During my stop over in Seoul, I receive an email from Princess that my credit card had arrived from HSBC. Hmmm, interesting. Why would they do that? I ask her to hold onto the card till I get to London and sort it out.(Thankfully, Princess was too good a friend to go on a shipping frenzy with my new credit card)
So I arrive in London, go to the branch and explain the situation. The dickhead tells me that he would issue a new card and send it to my Glasgow address. No explanation as to why my credit card had been sent to Australia but hey I was to receive my new credit card in a week so didn't bother asking. A week passes, and I receive a letter from HSBC. My new credit card is waiting for me at the London branch. What the fuck?
So I ring HSBC, I explain to them that I can't get to London and I was promised that my new card would be sent to my Glasgow address. Sour bitch on the phone tells me "due to security reasons, we do not post our credit cards to home addresses" HELLO???!!!! Then why the fuck did you send it to my Australian address in the first place huh? She tells me that she would forward it to the Glasgow branch and I should have it in a week. Would someone contact me and let me know? I polietely ask, "Normally you'd receive a letter but if you don't hear from us, just go to the branch". Thanks. Great help.
I wait 10working days before I decide to go to the branch. The card is not there. The card is still in Londond waitin for me to pick it up. By this stage, I'm quite pissed off but I still manage to stay calm and wait again for my card to be transferred from London to Glasgow. The guy tells me to come back in two days.
I go back in two days. The card is still not there. I'm like fuckn pissed off but I still don't lose my cool. I just ask for a number I can call to lodge a formal complaint. A few days later my card finally arrives. No formal check of my ID, she doesn't even see that I sign the card in front of her and she sends me off. Obvisouly, security is their priority.
Great service from HSBC, I'll sure be recommending HSBC to all mny friends. BULLSHIT.

For the last two days, the weather in Glasgow has been absolutely gorgeous. Don't get me wrong, it's not warm, it's freezing. I'm not too sure if this is the beginning of winter but the temperature has dropped right down to probably about zero at times. So why is it gorgeous? The sky has been blue, not a single drop of rain and the sun has been shining. You wake up in the morning and everything is covered in a thin layer or frost, which transforms this city from a wet and grim hell to a picturesque, romantic city. Even though it is quite cold, the crisp air is refreshing to breathe as I walk to my work in the morning. The layers I have to put on before I leave the house no longer becomes a chore but exciting.
No doubt, rain will start again soon and I will find this place depressing again but this little window of beauty might give me hope and the boost I need....

Normally, I'm not very patriotic, and I don't get excited about sport. Except when I'm overseas. I don't know what it is but I start to care about how Australia is doing in sport. I become very proud of Australia and the fact I am Australian whenever we win an international match. When I was living in France, there was a rugby match on between France and Australia, and I watched the whole match and cheered for Australia and got very excited when Australia won. Such enthusiasm has never been repeated, till yesterday when Australia qualified for the World Cup.
To be honest with you when they played on Saturday I didn't really care. The boys had bought internet Uruguayan TV and were watching it at our flat. The boys got very emotional and I was a tad bit scared to watch it with them, so I didn't.(I'd never seen Bro get so emotional, he even threatened to bash me when I predicted we'd lose) I thought that we'd play endless matches against numerous countries before they decide whether we get through or not. Then I read this article in the SMH and realised the importance of the match and how we only had two games to get through or not. So yesterday, I got excited about the match. Unfortunately, I had to work and couldn't watch it but Bro dropped by work after the game to inform me of the good news. I was over the moon!!!!!! Unfortunately, no one at work really cared and therefore no one got very excited but still, I was very proud.....
Go Australia!

There's something wrong with our boiler and no one can tell me what the problem is. It all started with having hot/cold showers. One minute the water would be hot, cold the next. For some reason, this would happen a lot more when DK was in the shower. I didn't take much notice at first because and I know this sounds ridiculous but 'tis true, the shower itself was a bit more complitcated than turning on two taps. Anyway, one day, it happened to me and it was time to take some action. So I email my landlady who then contacts a plumber who then comes out to see me. He spends about an hour pissing about, then he basically tells me that he can't do anything and I should just contact the manufacturer. If I was paying, I would have been uber pissed off at this. Anyway, so I call the manufacturer, who then gives me the number for an "engineer". I call them to book a time, an "afternoon slot". So I've been sitting paitiently at home all afternoon for the "engineer".
Why can they never give you a time? I don't mean an exact time as I can understand that some jobs would take longer than some and therefore would be quite hard to give exact times, but at least a timeframe like between 2-3 instead of "the morning slot" or "the afternoon slot" Anyway, the engineer turned up at 4. He did stuff and he suggested that I get the shower checked. Tops. Back to the plumber. But of course, this being my life nothing is as simple as going back and forth beetween plumbers and engineers. The engineer leaves and half an hour later the whole boiler stops working. What the fuck? I ring the landlady who figures out the problem but I can't fix it. Enter DK stage left. He gets mad, we have a domestic,(our first since my arrival I might add)I cry and he apologises and he gets back to fixing it. Bro comes over for his farewell dindin and we go shopping and DK is left at home to do some research on line. By the time we get back, DK's onto it and he fixes it. Hoorah!!!! Ten minutes later the thing busts again. The engineer or whatever the fuck he is won't be able to come till Tuesday.Great. Cold showers and no heating for the next five days. Something tells me Glasgow and I really don't get along.

I haven't written in this for a while, mainly because, nothing has happened to me but also because I have become too lazy. It's amazing how little you achieve when you are bored. I should be taking an advantage of this vast free time and be doing something useful but I just can't be bothered. It's an achievement if I leave the house, when I don't have to....ho hum.
Another reason,(although I'm not quite sure why I need to justify myself for not writing in my own blog)the computer has become my enemy. The pewter means searching for hours for non existing jobs, opening my inbox means finding yet another rejection letter. Can't be stuffed.
Anyway, I do have stuff to write and maybe, just maybe, I'll get around to writing them down the next time I have a day off.

So that I become an "all rounder" at the bullshit cafe I work, they have put me in the kitchen at lunch times. I make sandwiches.
I have never worked in a sandwich place. The closest I got to actually making anything in a commercial kitchen was when I fried up wedges and reheated pasta at Sizzler when I was 15. Sure, I have made sandwiches for myself but I didn't have to follow rules or shit like that.
You wouldn't believe it but there are intricate rules in making sandwiches, so I am told a thousand times whenever I work there. Apparently, if you have to re-open the sandiwch after it has been grilled to add in the salad, you put the cheese at the bottom, and if the sandwich does not need to be opened again, the cheese goes on top. If the cheese doesn't go into the sandwich at all, depending on the ingredients, there are, once again, strict rules for what goes in first, second etc. Everything is pre-cooked and we re-heat it in the microwave and once again, rules. There are so many rules, even down to how big a bit of basil should be which always goes on top of sliced tomatoes. And most importantly, with every sandwich, one must put salt, pepper, oregano and dressing, which is basically olive oil although there should be an even balance of oil, balsamic and red wine vinegar. I have been told that I must learn to balance ingredients in the sandwiches I make. I never knew it was so complicated. Maybe this can be my new career and make sandwiches for the rest of my life. I will write books on how to make a perfect sandwich with strict instructions. I will then branch out to merchandising selling essetial items such as "pinch" spoons for your salt and pepper and a basil cutter which will cut it to its exact measurement. It will, of course, be way over-priced but people will buy it to make that perfect sandwich. Then I might even branch out to TV and have my own sandwich making show. Tops, why am I complaining that I can't get a job? I've got my future sorted right here.
I cannnot wait till my next shift!!!!!!!!

"Smoking can cause a slow and painful death"-and life without ciggies isn't slow and painful?

"Smoking can damage the sperm and decreases fertility" - surely this is an incentive for many blokes out there!

Message 1: "I am drunk and I miss you a little"

Reply message: "I miss you too. You are a good person"

you know, I've done some crazy things in my life, (and I don't think I need to remind you guys of some of the things I have done, or do I????) but I have to say, coming to GLASGOW for a guy is seriously THE CRAZIEST thing I have ever done in my life and I don't think anything and I mean ANYTHING in the forseeable future can beat that.
Bloody hell

DK's away this weekend and I have been busy doing this and that around the house. Although I miss DK's company, it is nice to be alone in the house. I have been a domestic godess today, busily cleaning and tidying the house, doing the washing etc. A very exciting way to spend one's Saturday.
Tonight's Guy Fawkes' night in Glasgow and I can already hear fireworks going off everywhere. Mind you, they've been at it for the last two weeks or so. The idea of going into the city to see the fireworks is a little tempting but I know it'll be a mistake.
I have found a tutoring gig, although I'm not actually getting paid for it......oh well, maybe she'll love me so much she'll tell all her friends about me and I'll have real students.
Received three more rejection letters. Tops.

Hi Kids,
No one writes letters anymore, but, why don't you guys make an exception and write me a letter? I'm getting jack of receiving rejection letters and bills which I can't actually pay.....It'd be nice to see a familiar handwriting slipping through my letterbox for a change.
In return, I might send you a Christmas card
Go on!

What is the point of applicator tampons? As far as I can see, there is absolutely no advantage to using an aplicator tampon. It costs more than normal tampons and it take longer to shove it up there. Their selling points are that the applicator makes it easier and the fact that you don't have to put your finger up your vagina.
Like what the?
First of all, using an applicator tampon is like asking for an anesthetic when you go to give blood. Why ask for two needls when you can have one? By the time you have inserted the applicator, your normal tampon would already be in place and that would be it, but with an applicator, once you have it in place, you to push it in again. And then you have the issue of discarding the applicator, more unneccessary waste! WHAT IS THE POINT?????
As for the no finger thing,fuckn get over it. You put other things up there, so what's wrong with your own bloody finger?(no pun inteded, seriously)

Never be optimistic about the weather in the UK, it will only bring more disappointment.

Because I have been working SO HARD, I've decided that I need a holiday.......
Obviously ceci n'est pas vrai.......
Well, this was a holiday DK and I had planned before I arrived here, and when we had orignally organised it, I was hoping that I would have a job by this stage and be able to pay for some of it on my own.....How naive I was. The good news is, DK is being overly generous and he is paying for the whole holiday, and it has given me something to do and I have been frantically searching for best fares and intineray for our nine-day holiday. The conclusion I have come up with is, I should not become a travel agent. First of all, I'd hate to cop the blame if their holiday went terribly wrong and secondly, I stuffed up my own intineray.....
Anyway, so DK and I are off to France! We'll be in Paris for four days, (let's see if Paris is TRULY the most romantic city in the world and turns us into a 'romantic' couple....my guess is non!) and off to Marseille for A's, an ex-student come friend, birthday.
Needless to say, I am super excited about my trip to France, I can't wait to speak French again and hear French all the time etc. It's costing my poor DK a shit load of money though....
Anyway, so where did I fuck up? Our flight home. I thought we were landing at the same London arport from marseille to the one we need to get back to Glasgow and booked the earliest connecting flight and later when I was checking my confirmation emails, I realised I was getting back to an airport which is about an hour and half away, so had to re-book and it ended up costing a lot of money.....Don't want to tell DK though, so I'm going to cover for it, that's where my first cheque is going.....ouch...........I'v just realised, I'm not going to have any spending money either, shit.

Yesterday, we went to see Architecture in Helsink, a very cool Melbourne band. I had heard them on the radio back home and quite liked them but due to financial reasons, I wasn't going to go at first but DK offered to pay so I went along with him and DK.
I met up with them beforehand for a beer and when I took my jacket off DK made a comment about my top. It was only then I realised I was wearing a bombers(as in Essendon, the AFL team) top he bought me a couple of years ago. I hadn't put it on purposely, it's just a top I like (it has 'speed kills' on it which I find quite amusing) and it happened to be the first thing I found in the morning. Of course, being an Australian band, this meant there may be other Austrlians there, and I felt like a tosser turning up to a gig advertising the fact that I was from Australia.
Anyway, no one said anything to me and I was enjoying the gig quite close to the stage. Having downed three or four beers, I was tipsy and happy. Towards the end of the gig, the main guy started thanking people and etc etc and he thanks "the girl wearing the bombers top, being so far away from home, it's really nice to see it" and of course, the girl was me and he asked me to come up on stage to show off the jumper to everyone. Believe it or not, it was rather embarrassing... I have no problem getting on stage to act or to do a speech but geez, did I feel like fish out of water or what...It didn't end there though. For their last song, he got me on stage again and gave me one of the cowbells to play. YAY! I've always wanted to play percussion in a rock'n'roll band! This time around I had the cowbell to hide behind so the embarrassment factor was lower than before. Of course, this was only possible because I'm in Glasgow, who knows what would have happened if I wore that top in public back home.
So there you go, I got to play with Architecture in Helsinki for wearing a bomber's top which cost $2.50.....who needs designer label huh?????????????

whenever we go travelling or relocate abroad, we are compelled to eat/try things we would normally never/rarely eat/do back home. Part of the reason, I believe, is because we are on 'holiday mode' and when we are on such mode, everything goes out the window, purely because it is all about enjoying ourselves and having fun. when we relocate, this is due to one's desire to understand the new city's culture and habits. So, all of a sudden buckets of chips with redioactive curry sauce seem like an excellent idea for lunch, dinner and at desperate times even for breakfast. Whenever we go grocery shopping we feel obliged to try out a new chocolate bar, and whenever we pass a bakery;whether it be good or atrocious, we are sucked into buying yet another treat for ourselves. And at times, such modes can change a vegetarian into a meat eater again.
Next thing you know, your muffin top has become a muffin tent hovering over your bum which has somehow doubled in its size, and what used to be two thighs are now one big chunk of squishy log. You begin to wonder, "huh?what happened?" You start to blame things such as my hormones must be out of wack, or the long flight which has obviouslt bloated you and won't go down again. Your clothes stop fitting you the way it used to and you start to get depressed, and all you can do to comfort yourself is to stuff your face with a box of jaffa cakes..........
This happened to me the last time I went overseas and in three months, I had gained 10kilos.
NOT THIS TIME MY FRIEND!
I've realised I was going down the same road, so I have decided to get back to reality and start eating healthy again and try my best to leave the house and do some excercise. Hopefully, I won't become a real michelin man underneath the layers and layers of clothes I will be wearing over winter. I just need to make sure I stay away from Jaffa Cakes, chips and curry sauce and the chocolate bar aisle and the.........oh dear.........

I was walking around the toy section at woolies today to kill some time and I suddenly realised what a bad aunt I was to my little nephew. I mean, I always knew I wasn't the best aunt in the world but today, I realised I'm not just bad but a terrible, horrible aunt. I turned up to his first birthday completely fucked, I didn't even buy him a present, or maybe I did but I just have no memory of ever giving it to him. I didn't spend his first Christmas with him because I was too selfish. And turning up to his second birthday party was more of a chore than anything else. I have been so wrapped up in my own little world, I have neglected my own nephew......I have never spent much time with him, and never paid much attention to him. Now I'm here and god knows when I'll see him again.
I feel bloody awful.......what a selfish c^*& I am.....

It has been a month since I arrived here and I've decided to start a monthly review on my new life. The main reason behind this idea is to give me time to reflect on things and see how I can improve things. A bit like therapy I guess.....

PROFESSIONAL LIFE
Still no full time work. Heard back from five out of the 38 resumes I sent back, all negative. Tried to get a volunteer position teaching asylum seekers, no joy there either. Obviously, Glasgow is definitely not the city to come and teach English. Applied for other jobs including an investment position, spent hours writing the cover letter and the CV, just got a reply, negative. Considering the hours I put into this application, he/she did not spend enogh time reading my application.
Currently employed part-time at a cafe, I hate it. I will never like it. I hate it so much I chuked a sickie yesterday and I wish I never had to go back.
Conclusion, professional development going nowhere, a bit down about it but I'm sure there'll be something soon....how hard can it be?

SOCIAL LIFE
I have no friends except DK and Bro. Bro going home in two weeks. Where do you meet people? Joining a drama group to see if it gets me anywhere. I have joined the gym but since I never go to classses, the chances of meeting a friend at the gym are highly unlikely.
Conclusion, must find a job and meet people, job is the answer to all.....

HEALTH&WELL BEING
Drinking a bit too much, must have an alcohol free week. Have been eating way too much crap food, must stop eating chip and curry sauce and jaffa cakes. Have gained weight and clothes getting tight, all that hard work I did at the gym back home going to waste. Must get it sorted and start excercising again.
Mental health stable although at times I do have the urge to do crazy things but I guess that's normal coming from me. Very stressed, I think I am even more stressed now than I was when I had my stressful job once upon a time.

THE CITY
I don't know what to think of this city anymore. Will revise next month

CONCLUSION
Not good but I'm sure it will improve.....Once I have a job, and get into a routine, I am sure I will feel much better.......oh and maybe a friend or two....