I swear it always rains on Mondays, and my mood always dips into some kind of oblivion. In an ideal world I would have gotten up nice and early, walked over to my house, and started packing.
I have 2 weeks exactly till M-Day (that's Moving day). Yes in 2 weeks i get turfed out of my current house, and because they throw us out on the 29th June and can't move in to the new house till 1st July...i have to lug all of my stuff back to my parents house for a night.
My current landlord infuriates me...i love how we have to be out by the 29th yet I'm 99% sure last years tenants weren't out by then. Double standards. And if he expects us to clear out that bloody cellar he can go and jump. I bet i get deductions for that stupid blind in my room that's been broken since i moved in.
How i long for the day when i don't have to move every year! It would be nice to have somewhere to actually call home!
In other news, I'm expecting a call from none other than William Hill. I was told someone would be in contact about the whole sick pay fiasco. Nothing so far. I'll be honest it is really really stressing me out, there's a chance they might ask me to go in for a meeting. I can't do it. I can't sit there whilst they grill me over my absence. I'm suffering from depression and a personality disorder. Sitting in a room full of people who are essentially going to accuse me of being a liar and who won't believe a word i say isn't going to make me any better. I'm worried it's going to make me relapse, i'm scared of what i might do. I have a bad feeling i'm going to fall to pieces in front of them, and to make it worse here's no-one i can take with me.
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