Eergh, I feel pretty horrible. I have had far too little sleep and done far too much driving this week. I need another holiday now. Ick. I can't be bothered to go into details as to just WHY I had to do so much driving, but it twice resulted in only getting 5 or so hours sleep, and now I've pulled a muscle in my foot from sitting in a traffic jam (and putting the clutch up and down) for two hours. My head hurts. My throat hurts. I'm just really really hoping that it's just because I'm tired, because someone I know has glandular fever, and I really don't want to have caught THAT. I keep feeling slightly like I'm floating, though. Ick.
Don't worry Alexa, I think I'll be fine once I've had some sleep!
Meh, anyways, my throat hurting wasn't helped by working seven hours today. However, it was necessary, because I had an appraisal today and I didn't know what time it would be, so I couldn't cancel one of the shifts. I passed, anyway, so I get a pay rise. Yay! So now I get £8.73 an hour at evenings and weekends, and £7.00 in the day. So that means that my 7 hours today earned me about £55 as opposed to £51. Which is actually a pretty good improvement when you consider it on a monthly basis. Hurrah. I'm working 14 hours this week and 21 next week, and then hopefully 31.5 the two weeks after that, so that should earn me about £785 this month. Which will definitely help the overdraft situation. I should still finish in the black, which means I can go to Berlin and not have to get a job. Which will be nice.
My Grandad went back to New Zealand today. He hasn't changed since I last saw him, when I was 13. I hope I can go over there once I've finished my degree. I want to see all my relatives, and none of them can really afford to come over here that much - exchange rates really don't allow for it. I wish that he'd never gone over there, though, because he was always my favourite grandparent when I was small, and he still is - I just don't see him enough to have that much of a relationship with him now. I've always felt kind of guilty about him going, because I know my parents tried to persuade him out of it, and I've always wondered if I'd asked him not to go, he would have decided to stay. I think he thought my parents had some kind of ulterior motive for persuading him to stay - but if I'd asked, maybe it would have made a difference.
But never mind. What's done is done. I'm going to sleep now, because I feel like someone has hit me with a sledgehammer.