I've been trying to write a blog for days. Not even about anything particular. But I like writing when I've got nothing else to do, even if it makes no sense at all to anyone else.
Getting frustrated at the blank screen doesn't help. But it's not my fault I can't think straight at the moment. Which I don't even understand myself. It's strange that you can have too many thoughts and not be able to think of a thing to write.
Anyway, impending mind implosion aside... um, nothing. I finished my IVs on Tuesday (
I only got about 5 hours sleep on Mon night, so waking up at 10am for morning IVs on Tuesday wasn't fun (10am is early for me, thank you). But I couldn't really get back to sleep. So I went out to Newcastle, and wandered about a bit (Which I regretted once I was knackered). The main point of this was to check a bus route home from college. Which I didn't even do. But I know which bus gets me home, so I don't really have to be bothered about that. Anyway. I was completely wrecked when I got home. And actually fell asleep at 11.30pm. Which, if anyone knows, is early for me. VERY early. The stupid thing is, I've been out all day in the past and stayed up to one of those fun stupid o'clock times. Maybe I just used a bit more energy yesterday than I usually do.
Annoyingly I (willingly) woke up at 10am today. Which was pointless as I had no IVs to do. But instead of wearing myself out doing pointless excursions around Newcastle again, I've hardly left my room today (Apart from going on the wii and then laughing at other people on the wii. Both which are good physio). The only thing I accomplished was to sort some of my 6th form art books, and I sliced my finger open in the process. Which hurt. The salty-ness from CF, makes it hurt, a LOT. Ow.