Oh for FUCK'S SAKE, I just typed loads and loads and accidentally pressed Ctrl+R instead of Shift+R. Tip: don't. It wipes all your shit.
So, I'll start again.
I am writing this from my new room in a house in central Watford, very much alive despite my absence here indicating the contrary. I don't have any bedsheets, and I am using a kid's single duvet, decorated in a gloriously tasteless manner with multicoloured cupcakes, on a double bed. I am six weeks into a job that I love (lucky that that's the case as I'm working 48-hour weeks at the moment, all in cream-crackering 12-hour shifts) and, thank god, I seem to be good at.
I am also dating a lovely, handsome, intelligent gentleman in London who I met by happy chance online a few weeks ago, who shares my love of writing, The Simpsons, terrible films and fruit tea. Our first date (and so far only date, but this will change on Friday) involved going for milkshakes just off Oxford St, buying Hot Tub Time Machine on DVD, going for a Mexican, and then watching Hot Tub Time Machine. It's going well. Our second date is watching Arnold Schwarzenegger films at his, because we're super cool people. (And how does one meet him by accident online, I hear you ask. Well, I don't, but I'll tell you anyway. A comedy site I was reading took the piss out of OKCupid, so I thought I'd have a look round - didn't even fill out my profile, just set up a ridiculous username. And he was the first person to pop up as a person I 'might be interested in'. Turns out the OKCupid oracle was right and he's pretty much the male version of me, and pretty hot. And kind. And generous. And gentlemanly. And now I'll shut up.)
Job-wise, I am working with three people I get along very well with (although I had a close shave when a new girl arrived and we clashed like crazy, but she got moved to the new eating disorders unit in my stead as they wanted to keep me working at the Autism unit): a 26 year-old Irish girl, a 27 year-old Irishman, and a 22 year-old Coventry lass who has the same interest in the Forensic stuff as I do. I like the clients - I like getting to know them, I like delivering therapies (and I'm even writing some of the therapies, which is both interesting and useful) and I like feeling like I'm helping them in small ways. The Occupational Therapist, the big cheese down our way, terrified me at first after she strongly advised that one of the new staff get sacked and he was promptly dismissed, but now we get along very well and she's getting me to do important admin stuff for her and telling me about her life story. I assume this is all a good sign. I also hope at my six month review that I'll be bumped up to Asst Psychologist rather than Healthcare Assistant, but that's a long shot.
House-wise, I moved in yesterday and am living with a 20 year-old fashion student, a 27 year-old Indian guy who's getting married to a girl he's met once next March, and a Yorkshire guy in his early 30s. They have welcomed me with open arms and seem incredibly nice and on my wavelength, which is surprising given the mix of ages and cultures. Tomorrow I have the day off so I'm pimping out my room in Primark's finest wares. Before yesterday I was living in the unit I'm working in, which was intense and hence I moved out as swiftly as I could.
I don't really know what else to say. So much has happened in the last six weeks that I have no idea where to start. I've seen Hazel in London a fair bit, and spent Friday and Saturday down there having the most fun I've had in a while at a house party in Hackney and then watching fireworks on Primrose Hill on Bonifre Night. We also went to a lecture on hanging and torture at the Royal College of Surgeons, as a guy Hazel knows (who has a soft spot for me and asked me out on Friday night, eep) invited us along and it was free. We also got to check out the anatomy museum, which was grusome but fun. My weekends in London tend to end up being a bit weird like that. And they always involve epic breakfasts, this weekend's being 'eggy bacon cheesy toast' while watching Made In Chelsea.
I'm going to leave it here for now as I'm knackered. But now that I have proper internet and not shitty work internet, I'll be back more often. I bet you can barely contain your excitement.
Oh, and I have tickets to see Steps next April in Glasgow. By far the biggest and best news I have.