Priorities... They don't make sense much.

When I'm bad at a subject at school I don't enjoy it, so I work less at it, and more at the other subjects, and then it falls further behind in my "realms of achievement and joy". Look, everybody, another phrase for a place in my head that I JUST made up and will.... Probably never use again. Oh dear. Never mind; I digress.
Politics (that is, "Government and Politics"), one of my chosen A-Levels, is beginning to more than just annoy me slightly. It is now getting to the point where I think that maybe on Tuesdays and Thursdays, for those few effort-filled hours (in vain, usually), it would be nicer, less stressful, and more peaceful, if I were to cease to exist. That would be just grand. But no, I feel a need to put myself through this torture.

Is this an English person thing? It seems that we do things, as a race, to create more problems and to piss ourselves and others off. If there's nothing to complain about, then we complain about the lack of having anything to complain about... Which technically nullifies our argument, but there you go. The English are not a very, er... Logical race. We have many words for the same thing. Look up sex in a thesaurus and you will feel one of two emotions; ecstasy at how many words there are, or outrage because there can't be opportunities to use them all, can there? Anyway, I'm trying to illustrate that English people can be quite daft. Our language is daft. Someone once said it was compiled by "three blind Germans and a dictionary". Not far off, my noble friend.

We English like to have things our way. I like to sleep the wrong way up on my bed when I'm stressed. This manifests itself in the fact that every night for the past week I have turned in my sleep. Last night I literally said "sod it" and just put my pillows up that end. I was happy. I am happy being mad. Madness creates a sort of shroud; people don't go near you as much or look you in the eye, for fear of you going crazy or them seeing how truly wicked you are, respectively. Anyway, we complain about the rain and the cold all the time, me included, and I'm fed up of it. I'm not fat, but I'm not thin. I don't really get all the cold, I don't get the freezy-freezy feeling that makes you feel you could snuggle up to some frozen peas and feel warmed. It doesn't happen like that. But, despite having lived all my life in England, I am still forgetting how cold and rainy it is, and to be honest I complain about it all the time. But I love it secretly.

Anyway, yes, priorities. Mine have been a bit jumbled. Balancing home and school would be easy, if I didn't have other stuff to do as well... I do (try to do) a lot of sport. But, I got fired from my job (ill for two months, no, they didn't like that much... And I really was...) so I have, genuinely, no money. So less sport. Which means excess energy. Which means I'm not concentrating in school. I haven't done much homework in weeks- sure, I do the odd spot when I feel like it, but mainly my afternoons and evenings consist of sitting in my bedroom trying to work out how quickly I can read all the books on my shelf. Or dancing. Or on the phone. Or on youtube, and facebook, and failbook, and failblog, and doing random reading. As you can tell, homework does not take the gold plinth in the competition of important-ness.

My mother has been feeling quite awful for a while and a few days ago (I say this, I mean two weeks. Time passes oddly for me) she went to the doctor, who did some superficial tests, nothing dramatic. But they found something was wrong. She now has weird medication. It looks nasty. She's tired all the time, and had/ has to go to hospital for tests as well now. Stressful. Also, her boyfriend (who has lived with us with his daughter since June 2008) has a heart condition. We went on holiday to France and he got a fruit salad. Uh-oh- grapefruit. Nopedy-nooo. Not on his medication. He was not a happy fruit fly. Add these to the fact his daughter has some weird skin issues which mean she itches all the time and has to use steroid cream (which doesn't work) and hair cream (which thankfully DID work and managed to stop her going bald and get her hair to grow back).

My mum has this policy. If she finds a little hairball, she puts it in the girl's schoolbag. So far it has been effective at stopping hairball droppage around the flat. I think it stems from the fact that quite frankly no twelve year old girl wants to open their schoolbag to have what resembles a tiny poodle falling out. Let alone thirty of them. Think of all the tiny leads you'd have to buy!

Anyway. This means my priorities are now...

Sleep
Mum getting better
Mikolaj
Sport
School
Work
etc.

Hence, my...Er... priorities perhaps aren't wuite in order. I suppose it's finding that balance between what you want, and what you actually don't want to do now, but you know will be better in the long run.

Also, Tuesday night, I almost forgot, mum and boyfriend had HUGE argument. I mean, this was four hours of whisper-yelling in the kitchen until it got to the point where they were both going crazy and she was having a cigarette every ten minutes. I have never liked her smoking, it's kind of gross in my opinion, but there's not much I can really do. Once you know the risks, it's in your hands, I suppose. They yelled about EVERYTHING (almost. I mean we're not getting into any quantum huge random subjects stuff here, but most of it was about trust and money and love, and all that other crap you never want to hear the adults that run your household arguing about). It was dreadful. They were up until almost three. I was sleepy. That was the first night I turned my pillows to the bottom of the bed. It was fun to wake up and think "What the-oh, it's all okay. Never mind." Also, the second morning, I woke up real fast and got up into the wall (forgetting I was round the other way). Started the day with half-hearted nosebleed. Nothing gets you up quicker than blood seeping out of your face though, fun!

Thanks for reading, folks!