“Nothing brings more pain than too much pleasure; nothing more bondage than too much liberty,” according to Benjamin Franklin, and DAMN he was right. I. Am. FESTERING. With boredom, I truly am, three months, no job, nothing to do except lounge and study, except we all know that studying never happens when you have the time to devote to it.

To all the unemployed chavs out there, HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELVES? Your brains must be rotting away in your skulls. Is this why you breed so much? Nothing else to do? Really? Because I can believe that, I really can, I’d have sex constantly if I was locked in a house with nothing to do except watch Jeremy Kyle. I mean, really!

Exercising, writing, reading and moody wandering have been my primary activities. It was fine at first. Then one month developed into two, then three. Everyone seems to be raving about their marvellous summers, but I am on the verge of doing something stupid.

I am a person who NEEDS to be kept busy. This was why I was happy at school (when I wasn’t a target for the cowardly underclasses) – I had a solid, day-filling routine. Nowadays, you can only clean and vacuum and dust and sweep and organise alphabetically so many times before you rise up and cry, “That’s IT! I have had ENOUGH!” Believe me, my inner voice has been screaming this for the past five weeks. It’s tedious.

I cannot WAIT to get back into uni. I will plan reading and writing and extra-curricular activities around my classes so that I am never just “being”. I want to learn to sing. I want to participate more in the drama side of things. I want to STIMULATE MYSELF SO I DON’T GO BARMY.

Two good things have so far resulted from today’s activity of being awake – one, I received an email from one of my college drama teachers, who informed me that she misses my giggle and that my version of George in Frank Marcus’s The Killing of Sister George has put Beryl Reid’s version out of her head…for now. I was greatly moved and excited.

The second was that I was able to open up my vacation ‘reading’ list for my European Film and Literature course – and the teacher had grouped The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari in with the films “dir. Fritz Lang”. Silly teacher. All self-respecting German Expressionist geeks know that Caligari was dir. Robert Wiene.

“Hello, I’m Robert Wiene.”

Advertisements