Stupid bloody beetle. I unintentionally just killed a beetle whilst trying to get him off the windowsill and onto a sheet of paper. And then I started crying.
I'm ridiculously stressed right now - I wouldn't be surprised if I need plastic surgery by the end of these exams to get rid of the wrinkles of worry frequently found on my forehead.
It's been a shit day where curling up in my PJs and listening to Prince on full blast sounds like the best remedy, but instead I have to do a shitload of work.
I promise I'll get chirpier...at some point...