fresh wounds

Sooooooo, redundancy eh? A bit of a kick in the lady balls I must admit. It's been about a fortnight since I found out I'd be exiting the best breast flashing magazine that ever graced the publishing world, FRONT (it's like Loaded except not shit and a bit more alt). I've run the gamut of emotions- from pillow hugging crying to intense rage to alcoholism. I'm feeling a bit more amiable today anyway so I thought I'd start a blog to document the inevitable shame and humiliation I'll encounter on the rocky road to freelance writing.

Here are the highs and lows of my redundancy so far...

HIGHS

-sitting in my pants.

-sitting in my pants watching The Wire for five solid hours.

-Tesco's 39p offer on all Maryland cookies.

-maintaining constant alcohol intake.

-industrial dancehall

-researching persian show cats.

LOWS

-sitting in my pants on the doorstep smoking a dog end in a noticeably chicken tikka stained t-shirt when the very nice neighbour came out.

-demolishing a pack of Maryland cookies.

-the second series of The Wire.

-overwhelming waves of terrifying 'I have no income' fear.