On the one hand, I�m frickin' ecstatic....on the other hand, I�m feeling completely shitted.

I guess, by removing one of my worries, it's brought the bigger ones to my attention.

Now they're just there staring me right in the face, taunting the shit out of me.

I'm absolutely broke...laughably broke...and I need to procure �410 by the 28th.

Absofuckinglutely marvellous.

What I wouldn't give to be living with Ma and not have to pay any rent or bills....actually no, I�d be stressed about that too.

Can't feckin' win really.

*sighs* I don't know what to do.

I wish getting loans was a piss easy business...'cause I could solve everything all at once by doing that.

But shopaholics that tend to forget to pay minimum payments really don't have good credit scores.

Mine's shot to shit.

I was planning on starting my History assignment today, but I can't be doing with that shiz.

I've found about fifteen jobs to apply for, so I�m gunna tackle that first.

Then I need to get home and try and get my phone reinstated....and apply for a crisis loan.

Only I�ve got this awful feeling I won't get one...and then what do I do?

I'm a bit scared...okay no, I�m a lot scared.

There's this awful sinking feeling in my gut and I really don't want to have to tell Ma that I�ve got myself in trouble again.

Shit.

It's ridiculous that �4000 would solve all of my problems and I used to earn that in three months, easy.

Mother fucker.

Even if I get a job now, those problems aren't going to get solved easily.

But it would be a start.

First...the feckin' rent needs sorting.

Otherwise I�m going to be pissing a lot of people off...and while that might usually be a favourite past time of mine...I really don't want to do it right now.

Everything else can wait. Boy am I getting good at procrastinating.

And another thing, since when did St Albans get all ghettoish?! It's like all fuckin' middle class and upper crusty and shit.

I was standing in the job centre...trying to ignore the guy that was freakin' the shit out of me with his staring and hovering...and two dudes pulled up outside in their little noisy gangster car, hopped over the railings, swaggered inside and proceeded to try and drag this dude outside...presumably to 'fuck him up'...seen as that's all the words I made out.

My god. I just stood there with my mouth open and slowly backed away...what the hell is it with this place?!

Job centres are evil places. Seriously.

Right. I need to work this out.