This would all sound so much cooler if I had a nifty British accent.

Back again. I'm mulling over my plummeting ability to write accurate, interesting pieces of text. Used to be good -have taken a nosedive. Now I know how the plane that landed in the Hudson feels. And sinking... I used to be organised, too, you know. You wouldn't believe it, but I was. I used to hand homework in early (yes, geek, we've established that), used to always have my permission forms in on time, used to be neat and organised to the point, embarrassingly, of being anal. It's called OCD. Don't be mean.
I don't actually have OCD (except for price tags - I always have to rip them off as soon as I see them. Something about them just makes me crazy. Maybe because I'm broke? Freud could have afield day with me.) Life might actually be easier if I did have OCD. Then at least things would get done. Problem is, I don't, and I'm too laid back for my own good. The Queen of Procrastination returns with an even bigger, shinier crown. Example 1: this year I'm supposed to do work experience. This shit takes a long time to organise, apparently. I'm not giving myself much leeway. I now have nine days in which to call several places, get their permission, fill out/hand in the forms, complete a workshop and generally psyche myself into getting off my fat ass and actually doing something. Of course, since this is me we're talking about, I'll end up being one of those people that has to work for my dad for work experience because I left it so late that i have no other option. I just always seem to have something better to do - wash my hair, watch Supernatural, sing very loudly and very badly along with My Chem Rom, officially the best band to metal to in the history of the universe. Painting my nails also takes precedence over getting my future in order. In fact, the rest of my life is rather low on the priority list. I can't seem to get out of the rut of living in the moment. Sounds fun. Is actually extremely inconvenient. The way my whacked out logic works, I could get his by a truck whilst walking to Corner with CC this arvo. Hell, I could get both legs broken by an anorexic daddy's girl on a moped and never walk again. Make the most of the moment, I say.