I'm tired of being tired

I'm listening to: My Little Empire, Manic Street Preachers.
I feel: Tired and fat.

From 9am til 10pm, Thursday and Friday. From 9am til 5pm today and tomorrow. From 9am til 10-11pm Monday-Friday next week.

These are the hours, displayed on the internet for all (all bored enough to be here) to see, that I have been and will be spending at college in the near future. The Christmas season is indeed upon us, which means that as well as my normal college hours (9am til 4:15) I'm spending the majority of my free time in rehearsals for our Christmas production. They Shoot Horses, Don't they? will be performed on the 8th, 9th and 10th of December at Farnborough 6th Form College... Be there or... live someplace real faraway! (I've been talking in an American accent and i can't shake it...hot damn.)

My character in the play is a bit of a joke. It's a good part, yeah, but there was definitely a healthy sense of humour at work when I was given it. I play the Vice President of the Mothers' League for Good Morals. My part consists of brandishing a ridiculously large bible and spouting scripture at the assembled chorus. How appropriate. Dave must have noticed my WWJD bracelet and struck casting gold. I laugh. I laugh out loud.

Hum ti tum. At the moment we're doing technical rehearsals, which are actually the most boring things on this green earth. "Ok, that's great, now everyone get up and do it again." "That was good, do it again with the lights." "Sorry guys, music hitch, one more time?" 45 minutes later... "Great guys, one last time then we can move on."

Whatever. Minger.

I've somehow ended up organising a present for the drama teachers at college, a big old 'thank you we love you we're sorry we stressed you out' card and some booze. Fabulous. So, in between frisking the first years for contributions to the fund (the fund being the front pocket of my hoodie, suspiciously clinky) I've been down to Tesco to buy cards and a giant photo frame. We're gonna fill the frame with photos and "they shoot horses.." in cut and paste letters. While i was in Tesco, my 'team leader' Ben came over and grabbed me (literally) by the scruff of the neck. Oops, says I, remembering that I was supposed to be working today and had to blag a day off on the grounds of being "incredibly unavoidably busy". Tum ti tum. Ben asked if i wanted to work tomorrow. Apparently the managers haven't yet informed him that I'm in the 'unreliable' bad-books for cancelling my overtime. They will. Poo. What's worse than working at Tesco? Working at Tesco with managers who think you're scum.

Tried on my costume today. Makes my bum look big. I know, it's a cliche, but the fact that millions of women have said similar things about their own posteriors does not diminish the size of my own. I noticed something today. When skinny girls say they're fat, everyone tells them to shut up. When I say I'm fat, everyone changes the subject.

Screw it, I'm going to eat pie. :D