everyone says

Yoga was packed yesterday. Savasana isn't terribly relaxing when you're trying to avoid sticking your toe in your neighbour's ear.

In the summer following my first year of university I caught a horrible cough. I couldn't shift it and eventually it took me over. My energy levels plummeted and I quit my waitressing job. Though I went to the doctor a few times I refused to do anything much about it. Needles in the artery at the elbow raise panic in me.

I got better.

But I still get that feeling of fatigue, sometimes. It's not a physical tiredness. It isn't depression, either. It's a disconnect from the world, a feeling of being underwater with sounds and faces blurred by the rush of liquid. Nothing seems quite solid.

I've felt like that more frequently, lately. I get dizzy when walking, a head rush whenever I stand. I struggled horribly in yoga yesterday, fighting dehydration (it is certainly a cause) and an overwhelming sense of collapse.

Everyone says its anaemia, and they're probably right. I am good at ignoring my health. I never drink enough water and I don't eat much protein, let alone red meat. I do eat, though, I promise. My bruises take an age to heal; my scars rarely do. I have an injury from 10 October that still hasn't disappeared from my shin. But that's nothing unusual.

I'm not unhappy; far from it, despite the tedium of college (and the fact I'm listening to Eels). I'm just so very tired. Maybe it's boredom? I'm trying my best to alleviate that.

I guess I may have to get over the blood test thing.

hope

Listening to two girls chat beside me in the awful dungeon of a cafe in college, talking about how they don't have time to do any job applications. Yet, bizarrely, neither of them have actually done the preparation for today's classes; what keeps them so busy, I wonder?

This course is not hard work. Watch a few hours of online lectures a week, read up on anything you're hazy about and make a stab at a basic prep task. Turn up to all your classes and you're in college for about ten hours a week.

If you can't cope with this, how on earth will you be a lawyer? Will you sulk when you're not allowed to go at half past five on the dot? Will you ignore the tasks your supervisor sets you in favour of the pub and then moan about what a bitch she is, how busy you are, doesn't she understand?

I know, I know, I'm arrogant. I'm struck equally by reassurance and fear; these girls aren't really competition in the job market, but then again I've met people just like them who are qualified lawyers.

Spanish class soon.

move

We're moving house tomorrow. My room is nearly empty and you can see the patches of mould near the windows. Lucky buyer.

We're not going far. The new house is a good deal and has a back garden; luxury, in London.

The only thing I'm really sad to abandon is my oversized bed. My boyfriend is much taller than me and sleeps in a star shape, limbs seeming to multiply in the night.

No internet from tomorrow until Tuesday at least. Not that I was likely to post anyway, as you well know.

espanol

The girl to my left is called Svetlana. She's wearing a tartan skirt, and a different tartan v-neck sleeveless pullover. The girl on my right is Lydia, and is wearing earrings that have 'Oui' written on them. No, that may be a lie; I can only see one. She is also wearing knee socks and I like both of these girls immediately.

We play ice-breaker games that they always make you play in semi-formal situations, only we play them in Spanish. The teacher makes us say a word we know already. The only one I can think of is manteca, so I say it, and she looks amused. It means lard.

Telling a lawyer friend about the classes earlier in the day he is confused by why I'm taking them. You must have a thirst for knowledge, man in his perfect East London accent. When Svetlana asks the same question later I answer honestly something to do in the evenings and she laughs and agrees. She also makes reference to the bars around the college and I'm pretty sure I'm going to make some friends, here.

tired

I've not been to bed before 1am for the past week. Not sure why, really.

Woke up this morning to some news that tweaked that horrible emotional pulley that develops in your throat when you haven't slept enough. Attach any weight and the tears flood out.

Nothing more to say. Just tired and missing certain people so very much.

definitely january

So I've resolved to get more involved. My brain feels like its dying; I do next to no work for this course and my results are very good. That's not intended as a boast, more an indication of just how basic the tasks are.

Spanish classes start on Monday night. I've joined a book group that meets every month and found a couple of free events to attend in the coming weeks. I'm just starting to like London.

I am also going to attempt to eliminate artificial sweeteners from my diet, though probably not until Lent rolls around. That sounds horribly organic and smug. It means giving up Diet Coke and sugar-free squash. I've rather lost my taste for the former.

Related: the gym is busy, even in the dead mid morning hours. Uncomfortable people in clothes meant for gardening stare warily at the machines. Just reminds me of me, aged sixteen. I've been asked two questions about the gym while mostly naked in the changing room this week. Demonstrating how a locker works without a bra on must fit into some fetish category, somewhere.

nye

We're all pretending to be grown up and having a dinner party. As EQ points out, student food (shepherds pie and peas) slopped onto plates is only a dinner party by virtue of the fact that we're all in black tie. I've even got my hair up, braids pinned at the nape of my neck.

He looks so good, stubble and a dinner jacket. After Big Ben chimes we're on the sofa, talking. We talk more when we get home, in bed, my head on his shoulder. I am not good at this, this talking, but fuelled by cheap fizz I do my best.

He looks impossibly better the next morning, dress shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows and pyjama bottoms. We make breakfast for welcome guests and spend the day asleep.

Happy New Year. Thank you for reading.