Currently suffering from an anger management problem. Although I'm mostly managing quite well, with the counting and the hand-sitting and the constant mental imaging of cathartic acts of violence.
A short list of things that have caused me to count almost to a thousand would include Sydney, Sydneysider's inability to walk and look where they're going, Sydneysider's public transport skills, my flatmates feeling free to foist their empty headed/interfering/GOD IT MAKES ME SO ANGRY views on me. (Case in point: Flatmate A claimed suicide bombers were completely justified with the murder of innocents, as the end justifies the means. Flatmate 2 then mentioned I shouldn't have bought oranges in a net bag and that it was time to change my toothbrush. I mean, a) the end doesn't justify the means; the means create the end, which is a very different thing altogether and b) who the fuck examines other peoples' toothbrushes? Suicide bombers planning to detonate entire happy weddingfuls of likely innocents would shun this kind of behaviour. For fuck's sake.)
Apart from that, everything is going ok. I have a job until uni (hopefully) starts, I'll be moving out (hopefully) on the weekend and will (definitely) be telling the flatmates what I think of them in the form of a short song I have entitled "Fuck You To Hell (I Cleaned The Tile Grout With Your Toothbrushes)". It's a love ballad.
Actually, it's not that bad and they're actually very nice, it just seems a shame to have an online journal without some bile and whining.