Part the First:
I went driving the manual with Mum again on the weekend. This was not a joyous occasion. It was fucking awful. I kept stalling the car. I couldn't find the bite point. Trying to change the gears and steer at the same time was a fucking nightmare. I ended up in tears - and not just a single tear - I mean bawling - I was just really, really frustrated. I hate feeling useless at something. And useless I did feel. I wish I could just get driving. I know part of it's a mental block - but I really tried this time to be confident and positive and it still became fraught with fear and tension.
Part the Second:
My broadband connection has been shaped. This usually isn't so bad - especially since the high speed will be restored again in 5 days or so. However, this means it won't let me attach any documents to email. It's odd. It kind of downloads stuff okay - just slower - but I can't upload anything, not even tiny things. I have to go into University to turn in hard copies of my reflective journals and have 2% taken off my mark tomorrow. That will teach me! Except, of course, it won't. I'm predictable. Like lard.
Part the Third:
I'm kind of... ehh. I self-censor myself a lot. A hell of a lot. I think most people are pretty much aware I am not the world's nicest person. But somehow, I still seem to assume that I should behave and talk like I am. Sure. Okay. I do not want to be seen as some evil overlord egomaniac. I think the egomaniacal aspects of my personality generally need to be balanced out by the more generous aspects. But - you know - I need to remind myself that bottling up annoyances is how I get to the point where I explode into little tiny pieces and form a renegade army of miniature Lozii. I kind of hate and respect those who just say what they're thinking, no matter how negative, in equal measure. Of course, if I didn't self-censor, the amount of petty drivel in this journal would be tenfold - so it's probably for the best. And the private feature of LJ is so wonderful. I have bad thoughts. Shock. Horror.
... that feels slightly better.