It's 2:30am and I can't sleep.
It's 2:30am on September 2nd, which makes it 45 hours and 30 minutes until my 25th birthday.
And I can't sleep.
Though I really don't put that down to my birthday. That sort of thing gets old by the age of about ten.

"I'm 25" sounds weird.
I'm not sure when THAT happened.

25 years ago I guess.

I need something good to happen.
In my life, in general, I mean. Give me a reason to celebrate.
It's not that my life isn't great. My life IS great. Better than it's been in a long time in fact... And I'm really quite happy about that
I have all the wonderful people I could ever need. You're all over the place, you lot. I'm all over the place recently, but in a different way. I'll find my way back eventually.
I need to find focus.
I need to find inspiration, too.

The inspiration bit might be the most important.

There's a limit to how much a girl can distract herself by buying pretty things. (Even if that limit is her bank account).
I've been good.

My list of time filling activities is beginning to run low.
Star Wars marathon - check
Organise wardrobe - check
Tidy bedroom - check
Go through unopened mail - check
Clean makeup bag - check
Complete half finished sewing projects - check(ish)
Do all laundry in correct colour groups and settings - check
Clean kitchen - checkcheckcheck

I need my job interview from last week to have gone well. I really, really do. I'm not at all good with waiting, or being unable to do anything. I'm a restless creature by nature.
Once my internship ended I set myself a time limit of a month that I could allow myself to be picky about what jobs I applied for.
That month was up about a week ago, so maybe it's time to give up the dream a little. That creative career that I enjoy and get paid for.... The one where I can sit and make beautiful things all day. Yeah, bollocks.
I don't want 'give up' to be the way to word it. More... postpone.
I just need to get the bills paid.

Those bills include the bill for my iPhone that got stolen on Thursday and needs replacing which is fucking wonderful and something I could do without shelling out for right now.
My flatmate suffered the same fate, as did her cousin and a lot of other people in the same venue, according to the nice policeman I reported it to the next day.
Fucking. Fuck. Motherfuckers.
So, naturally, I am non-contactable via my phone annnnddd I feel horrifically cut off right now.
Fuck it.

Tomorrow I leave my distractions in the hands of Miro, Wilona, the cats and probably some wine, and I can't wait to see them
I have been giving some real, serious thought to shooting a new set recently too.
So, that may be on the cards in the future.

Now, someone employ me?
Or better yet... commission me to make wonderful dresses and hats.

Please?