There's a Mouse in the House!

I know what I saw.
I don't know what I saw.

It was dark.
I had just turned on the light.
The faint glow ever so slowly getting brighter.
I turn to put my plate on the counter.
I see a shadow.
I see it scurrying.
It turns back towards the oven.
It pokes it's head around the blender.
Its little black beady eyes.
I blink.
It's gone.
I walk back, in panic.

I tell my housemates. Stammering.
The words aren't real.
This can't be real.
"There's- There's a mouse. I saw a mouse. In the kitchen..."
They're in denial.
"You're seeing things. You were hearing things last week too." I'm told.
I don't believe it.
Maybe I didn't see a mouse.
But maybe I did.

I still refuse to wash up, in case it is back.
I'll wash my dishes when it is daylight again.


I know this isn't how I normally blog. But it had to be done. This happened shortly after dinner today, I saw it as I went to get more food. As you can probably guess, I've hidden myself in my room until morning. Actual morning. And I'm so hungry...I've only eaten breakfast and dinner today. Both were small meals. I'm such a greedy pig, haha xD.

Unconditional love and stay safe from vermin,
Cazzie x

Relieved

I finally got to move out today. Basically  I walked into the housing office and told them that they forgot to call me and arrange a meeting, so we had it right then and there. I was brought to tears again, accused to breaking into a room, and of cyberbullying.
I stormed off crying and shouting something along the lines of "You claim to provide a safe environment to live in yet I've been living in fear for the past month! [...] If you don't do something about this, I will drop out of uni altogether because this is too much stress! I have a deadline on Monday and due to the circumstances I am unable to complete my work in time."

I cried for a while, staring out at the water and City Airport, then called my personal tutor for some advice.
I went to my tutors office, and spoke, then he asked me to leave the room for a few minutes to talk to someone else that had entered.

I then recieved a call from housing, telling me some stuff about a room being available, in which I replied "I should hope so, you guys have driven me to thoughts of suicide, and quitting the one thing I actually want to do[...] Let me calm down first." I was still too angry, and encounters with that man always make me worse. (It really doesn't help that almost everyone I saw that day was male.)

I went to the office with my tutor, who was also trying to get me an extension on a piece of coursework, so that it is complete, even if it is not to the standard that I wanted it to be at. He checked that they were in fact giving me a room, and they gave me the keys to have a look at it. I asked my tutor to come with me as I was still feeling a bit off, and so he did. Getting into another flat made me feel so much better already, and so I accepted the offer and started moving things in, packing and cleaning my old room and then bringing it all over with the help of a couple of friends.

A huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and I noticed that I have turned back into my old self again, quite quickly. I have a spring in my step, I'm smiling already and made my first proper meal in about a month (from scratch, none of those jars and frozen rubbish).

I am truly grateful to everyone that has helped and supported me through this time, my family, friends, my personal tutor, and now I found out that the one 'impartial' person in my flat was actually on my side. Shhh, I'm not supposed to know ;)

Unconditional love,
Cazzie x

Life Lessons #4

Perfection

This doesn't exist in a living form. Simple. HARSH REALITY.

Don't stress about not being 'perfect enough' because no matter how hard you try, it won't happen. You are unique, and beautiful in your own right. There is no perfect person. But you can be amazing, stunning, clever and you can fein perfection.

But then faking perfection makes your imperfect as a rule. Everything around you has a flaw, but if you turn that flaw into a positive, you'll be much happier.

Too short to reach you top shelf? You're cute and fun sized.

Really tall? Great model or basketball player.

Shy? Great at observing others.

Wear glasses? Adorkable, the right frames make you look even cuter, or sophisticated and sexy.

The Last 12 Hours... (at the time...)

I'm going to try to keep this short.. :)

This all happened about a week or two ago, on the 14th. My cousin, John*, had been staying over for the past week and my friend decided to go out in London for her birthday. I don't live in London when I'm away from uni so we decided to catch the bus, a train to London Victoria and then a tube to West Ham (where we started the night). So the first bit was all fun and dandy, just a lot of talking about the past and present, how things are different from where I live and where he lives. We left my house at 7pm.
Then we got on the underground. As soon as the doors closed behind us, there was no escape. The stench was vile, a mixture of sick and possibly urine. A strawberry blonde haired boy sat in the corner next to the door, head down and small stains of puke on the sleeves of his suit/uniform. The look of disgust from other passengers, the whispering around the carriage, the way people would cover their noses and mouths with scarfs and hands. At every passing stop, I asked John if we could change carriage, it was making me feel nauseous and we still had 11 stops to go, 10, 9, 8... He thought it was funny just watching everyone's reactions to the obvious situation. When he finally got off at a station, about 4 stops before our own, we noticed that on the inside of his trousers, was an oozing brown substance we could only imagine as the faeces.
Skip forward a few hours, arriving at my friend's house a little after 9pm, and we start drinking. Meeting up with some more friends from uni, and leave my friend's house at 11pm-ish.
Skip again to when the club closes (what happened inside is just typical and I don't want to bore you with the details) at 4am. We get outside and need to decide if we are staying in London or going back to mine. At 4.30am, we decide to make our way back to London Victoria. I get out my phone, and it takes us past Trafalgar Square, St. James' Park, Buckingham Palace, all whilst still a little drunk.
We managed to get to Victoria all in one piece, bought more tickets to get home, waited around for a loooooooooooooooong time and caught two trains to get to Gatwick Airport. I haven't been to the Airport in a long time and I usually go with my Dad who knows his way around pretty easily. John and I got lost, and circled it at least twice before finding the exit for the buses.
We eventually got home again, and I unlocked my door at 7am.

IT REALLY WAS AN EVENTFUL 12 HOURS :D


* John is not actually his name but who cares. Oh, and the most exciting things happen when John comes over.
I know I rushed the last bit but, who cares :P.