Wall-C

Hello to all you peoples, I'll warn you now that this is one of those posts where I've been burning the candle at several ends and all sense of sense and sentences evaporate into a sea of words and random events and this and that and jazz and bla bla bla bla bla. Enjoy :)

My body has been exceptionally nice to me over the past week or two, I was away at London this weekend and my legs did almost all of the things I told them to which was very nice indeed. Thankyou legs! I only had to have one emergency sit down (AKA not me falling over but me having to have a rest somewhere rather inconvenient for everyone else around me) in St James's Park tube station. I just pretended I was rearranging all my FREE NEWSPAPERS though. Seriously though, I'll be an absolute nightmare if I get any work experience in London, I can't resist anything that's free, I'll have a whole forest's worth of Metros hoarded in my handbag. Speaking of which there's still no news from the work experience lady, I hope she tells me stuff soon because I need to plan and stuff. I think I maybe may have given her a proper list of companies because normal people don't know where to go and buy stamps, that's not really common knowledge, I forgot that normal people have normal hobbies like going to the gym and not drooling over perforated paper. I really really really want it to all get sorted because I'm going a bit out of my mind wanting to do something. Anything. Do you need your shed painting? I'll come and paint your shed. It'll kill my arms, but I'll do it. I love sheds :)

I also got my tattoo touched up and it's healing brilliantly again. I'm so lucky to be so well and whatnot after my illness. My tattoo is so happy, I imagined it would be green and red and broken but it's just full of love and joy. Normal life is slowly resuming. I can go and get a tattoo and not die. I can go and eat vegtables and not die. I can go in a crowd and not die. So many options for not dying. I really noticed it this weekend, I'm not perfect and my legs are still crap by normal standards and I'm always half asleep but I'm getting slowly slowly better. Like, not better from the cancer, better from the side effects. I was out all day and still felt alright at seven pm! I mean, I feel shit now, but for 8 whole hours I felt almost awake! GO TEAM CONSTANZE.

This weekend I'm off to Stratford-Upon-Avon to play party games for three days solid. I'm 21, honestly. This is the thing, maturity isn't about when you stop playing party games, it's when you know something or other. Being in hospital for three years has made me very very mature. But it's also made me have fun much more easily. I really have no idea what my point is here, I think it's something like cancer has given me a completely unique take on the universe and a completely unique mixture of calmness and maturity and humour and madness. So I need to stop worrying about the fact that no one will employ me because they will because I am really amazing and very capable. And I like Cranium. Which are all skills and qualities that every employer/university want. I really should write less blog posts when it's half twelve and I'm full of tramadol and haven't slept since the dawn of time, in the words of DOG I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING.

I really need to book a doctor's appointment but the surgery I go to is open for about one hour every century. And we have no water supply at the minute, living on a crappy council estate does sometimes have its drawbacks. I am really quite fond of washing and drinking and brushing my teeth and just generally not feeling like a tramp, HEAR THAT SEVERN TRENT WATER??? Good.

Sleepytimes now, I'm off to dream of my amazing future career selling stamps in the middle of CERN. That is not an impractical dream, be quiet!

Constanze :) xXx

P.s I also got stopped by a fashion blogger in London. She took photos of me in my general wacky Constanze clothes. I told her about my love of Pete Burns. She looked confused. I might be on her website. If I am I will post a link. I AM JUST SO FASHIONABLE WITH MY CARDIGANS AND STUPID HAIR AND GVH RASHES AND ANAEMIC COMPLEXION. In my quest to be as untrendy as possible I seem to have somehow failed and managed to look nice, I must remember to look more like my dream of being a malnourished goth who fell into some crayons and aged 50 years. None of this looking modern malarkey, that's for cool people, and I'll be damned if I'm cool!

P.p.s I met so many random stranger mentals this weekend in London. I am a mental magnet, which is actually quite fun but less fun when you can't work out if they're epic or about to stab you. I met one guy who said he'd seen more people cured of cancer by god's miracles than he had drugs. I went along with it for a bit and was like OH SHIT THAT'S WHERE I'VE BEEN GOING WRONG before recommending him some nice physics books and running away to hide in a Kazakh restaurant. That had a pond in it. Everything I do sounds like a LSD trip, doesn't it?

P.p.p.s I just realised that I lied about my legs. I fell over in a train toilet and banged my head. Thankfully I didn't fall in any suspicious puddles though. Everything is alright as long as I'm not in a piss puddle :)

P.p.p.p.s The picture above is of me repairing a wall at a very young age. Can I put that on my cv? My resumé really is improving, "Cancer patient with 1/3 of an Oxford physics degree seeks job doing something cool, can both build dry stone walls and cement everyting, was once completely covered in toilet roll".