....and with that title saying everything that needs to be said about England's current weather (we.are.all.going.to.die) I shall continue on in the tradition of this blog and write about something completely irrelevant.

Yesterday I applied for a job. And that's my productivity for the week done. I really hope they don't glance at my facebook page and decide not to give me an interview based on the amount of time's that I threaten to commit to either suicide or quitting. They apparently want someone 'positive' which I admittedly struggle with.

I've also set up a new steam account. I had another account years ago but got locked out and steam is just one of those systems where it will ask a ridiculous amount of impossible questions in order to reactivate your account. Also I woke up and twelve and it is now two so this was a classic moment of procrastination.

This is not the blog of a near 30 year old. This is the blog of someone who has entered their early 20s; just started to worry about their life's decisions and still does not know how to pick their socks up off from the floor.

Is there a mood on this thing to express someone who's gone from 'chipper' to 'blah'?

Seriously. How did I even manage that?

Dying inside and out so attempt a sneaky blog bit.
Ive been stuck on a shift later than my colleagues. I feel like Im being punished for having to have spent the morning having my boob poked and my money on taxis.

Wasnt that enough punishment?

....i feel the of power possibilities in my fingertips. The powerful itch of a story trying take form.

Hey there LJ. Been a while. Have some angst.

Why did I leave my cigarettes at home today?
Why oh why oh why?

I know it makes miserable working here - chaining myself into the phone day after day having mundane conversation after mundane conversation...I should've known I would want to smoke.

I really need to stop tricking myself that I will quit smoking.

So today I had an anual review at work where my boss sent me a load of stats and figures and a guideline for the form I am supposed to complete in order to convince my company to give me a pay rise and a bonus. After staring at this blankly for an hour - my mind a stress filled mess and eyes threatening the drama of tears; I wrote my sentence:

Everythings fine

This hasty and poorly spelt essay was brought to by mobile phone ans late from lunch

Also my fiance is lying at the bottom of the bed watching yet another program on serial killers and honestly I'm really worried as he watches far too many of these already.

Note to self: try to cut nagging down to one issue a day.

Today I have decent internet connection, too much caffeine consumption, a late hour and a natural aversion to Facebook on my side. Elements which have combined their powers and joined forces with my laptop (who appears to have forgiven me temporarily for spilling water over its surface all those long months ago) and I suddenly find myself writing an entry on my sorely neglected Livejournal account (I wont ever say goodbye to you LJ! No matter how many years I forget about you, I'll always come back to whine a little more). Providing I am able to withstand the antagonisms of the ever evil pop ups and this isn't some vengeance filled ploy by my laptop - seducing me with the promise of blogging then deleting my labors at the last moment - all seems well and good for an entry which something other than three sentences of complaining about things which I'm not sure make any sense even to myself.

Which is a damned pity because I'm finally coming to the end of my travels.

Currently we are in Malaysia (Panaang?) and have spent day following the street art trail. We ate cheap but still have somehow spent too much money and although I have a zillion new clothes to add to my wardrobe my eyes are already flicking over the market stalls. I've got my gaze fixated on a particularly dashing bugs bunny jumper.

Tomorrow the plan is to get up early, to attempt (and most assuredly fail) at washing the sweat, sand and mud stains from our clothes and then spend the rest of the day at the National Park....but seeing as Terry is still watching serial killers do all the things serial killers do (something I am not going to think about right now) and I am listening to the chirruping of geckos whilst writing utter drivel at a time my laptop innocently confirms as seven pm but which I am more inclined to believe is actually two am....this does not seem a likely series of events to unfold.

I probably should message people I love tomorrow because you know its bad when you set up a Twitter account just to avoid Facebook.

Lately I've really begun to feel my age.
It's not just the feeling of my body falling apart on me. Or the fact that alcohol is now simply poison to me (I mean, I've never really been able to handle my drink and have earned the nickname 'two sip' from my brother over the years, but dear God these hangovers). It's not even the fact that I've noticed my clothes don't seem as fun or interesting any more.
It's all the things I use to love that have disappeared, slowly but surely.

I don't know why I keep putting titles on these entries; they don't really add much to the mindless drivel that makes up most of the content of this journal.

That's a depressing thought. In my late twenties and still writing mindless drivel.

This is just a note to remind myself to write in this later on. Peep Show has proven very distracting.

I was going to write about my current exploits in Thailand....but what the hey; it's 4.13 am here, I've been sneezing and sniffling for the last six hours or so and this caught my eye.

It's an interesting question. It's something we ask ourselves a lot: 'If I had a superpower what would it be?'

The superhero genre, in any form, perhaps offer one of the most ultimate forms of escapism. The line between the good and the bad tend to be starkly drawn. And even if the ultimate baddie is someone we empathise with to a certain degree, then usually there are still plenty of faceless monsters to beat up so we won't feel too guilty about seeing creatures being pounded into pulp. Hero's are self-sacrificing, charming and - most importantly - have the skill or strength to do something the majority of the population cannot: make a difference in the world. And that is where the real escapism comes.

That being said, the quite reason likely no one in the world has developed any form of strange or curious ability is because the next question to 'if you had superpower....?'is generally followed by '....and what would you use it for?' To which the response is usually something selfish.

For example:

I am the type of person who dreams their life away. Sometimes through games, sometimes through stories, sometimes just by imagining situations that never have and never will happen. I even imagine conversations that will never exist. And unfortunately I am someone who would rather sit and think about something not happening than actually doing something productive and therefore wind up putting off a million things I think I have to do (but probably don't).

If I could have any superpower I would want the power of time. That way I could do all things I don't want to do in matter of moments and spend the rest of my time doing the things I enjoy doing. Primarily having a good think.

Then maybe I could speed over to the other side of the world to prevent bullets from hitting a few innocent people.

We left England on the 26th of January when it was bitterly cold. The flight is now no more than a long, sleep deprived and restless blur. Where I had to stand up constantly, walking up and down a none too interesting path and waggle my feet around - having been regaled by my aunt with a horror story involving DVT at the leaving party my mum threw but feeling like an idiot nonetheless. On the plus side there was Tetris and that strange, slightly stale air food served in plastic bowls.

I remember the initial sensation when we finally made it through customs and stepped out onto to Thai soil pavement; a moment of having a complete inability to breathe. This was not due to the excitement of finally having made it out of England to start a brief life in a foreign country, but simply brought on the but the unexpected heat. The air felt heavy and stale in my lungs. A little stagnant as there was no breeze. It made the act of lighting a cigarette feel ironic in an idiotic kind of way and halfway down Terry and I threw in the towel and stubbed out the two half smoke gestures in helpfully provided plant pot of sand. Then we made our into Bangkok.

The BTS we caught was blissfully empty for couple of stops and I managed to stumble (backpack, rucksack and all) into a small, plastic seat. Then we hit Siam and the rest of my journey was spent with my face pressed close to another persons crotch whilst we avoided eye contact with each other and wondering vaguely if I would be able to find Terry in this mass of people before he got off at our designated stop whilst I was whisked further off into the heart of Bangkok. Forever doomed to an awkward situation. A few stops later Terry shouldered his was through confined space and the delicate press of too many bodies, grabbed me by the labels and hoisted me onto the platform below.

Our first two days consisted of: eating, sleeping and finding somewhere to live.

We found an apartment close to the hotel where we were staying and that we suspect are probably being overcharged for. But it came already furnished with pillows and duvet with not only a great view of Bangkok but of Tesco Lotus as well. And on that basis we were sold.

The following couple of months have involved: monkey towns, cat cafes, walks, Night Markets, Pattaya, Kho Phangan, Breaking Bad, Waterfalls, Bridge Over the Rive Kwai, lazy days, drinks, Socram, discovering HunterxHunter, a visit from a friend and hangovers.....also one night in prison but that's another story.

I once came up with a theory that the months of January and February really ought to be sacked off as productive months. In all honesty I tend to spend January feeling drunk or hung over whilst February is spent recovering from said hang over. Listless, lacking in energy and telling myself I'll start my life tomorrow. So March, I decided, would be when all my New Years resolutions would kick in. March is the ending of Winter and the beginning of Spring. A changing of seasons. Something fresh and new smelling. March would be when I'd start.

I came up with this theory two years ago.

I am currently sitting in bed in Thailand, my fingers and feet covered with bites, watching Peep Show with my fiancé whilst we wait to see if my mum is available to Skype.