Morning. 1am, I’m just home from the cinema. I wish I could say that I hadn’t been there since 3:20 in the afternoon, but with TFL fares requiring a mortgage, I have to make the trips worthwhile.

It’s been a long and testing day where the films I watched are concerned. One Night Only was on the verge of outright tedium. The Odyssey was an astonishing piece of cinema gold, which I was wonderfully surprised by. I’m always sceptical when titles are so popular, but this deserves every ounce of recognition that it’s getting. And, finally, The Dog Stars, I found, ended just at the point that it was settling into itself, which is a massive shame.

Full thoughts to come when I’ve slept, of course, of which there are many. Obviously cinema, theatre, art of any kind is deeply subjective, but I am spotting a recurring theme, and I think this is a direct result of Odeon Limitless providing exposure to a lot of films: a genuine and deserved distaste for films that don’t know what they want to be, or are just out to make a quick buck. Both damning statements, but when the pattern becomes obvious, it cannot be ignored.

Oh, and I even snuck in a full grocery shop before popping off to the cinema, so a very long day, and somehow I still managed to close all my rings on Apple Fitness.

Speaking of fitness, I really ought to quit the cigarettes and get my running shoes on again. I’ve had the excuse of preparing to move room and everything being packed away because I’m a freak when it comes to managing time and being prepared, and I cannot cope if I don’t feel ready for something.

Spoiler: I’m never ready, and life is a perpetual assault of everything or nothing all at once. I’m never not having to gear up for something with such dread that I might not be good enough, or decompressing so heavily from something that I’m on the cusp of a nervous breakdown. It’s thrilling and all in my head, thankfully, but I do get told to cheer up a lot, which frankly is a massive insult because it took days of prep for my sad face to be in the damn room in the first place.

I’m not miserable, not really, just perpetually exhausted. I have been reassured that once people get to know me, my face that apparently says ‘wanker’ is quite misrepresentative of what I’m like… so that’s reassuring.

Christ, it’s now 1:22 and someone is moving room! Not a big deal, you might think, but my new room is located right next to the fire exit. Of which, I am currently convinced, is not going to save me from a roaring inferno because people keep propping it open to move their stuff. Do people not know why you’re supposed to keep the damn things shut?

Am I ok? Should I just never leave my room again?

Oops, forgot to take my medication.

I just poured blackcurrant cordial down my leg.

Night.