In a good way. Seriously, a good way. I think.

This time last week I was in Cornwall with my band friends. It was absolutely fantastic. Sun, sea, and my alternate family. I couldn’t have finished my second year of university any better.

Well, I could have passed, but hey. That’s being sorted. Will soon not be an issue.

I’ve also finished a theatre job and am going into another on Sunday for 8 days… don’t get me wrong, I love pit work, but it can be tiring; sat under a stage playing the same thing multiple nights in a row. But it’s fun. I do enjoy it, it’s just tiring.

Also I have a job. I’m employable. I’m an industrial farm hand. That’s the posh name for it anyway, the non-posh name is radish packer. I’m packing radishes, and it’s surprisingly (very much so) fun. There’s something quite therapeutic about watching conveyer belts of radishes going past whilst you pick some out and leave the rest to continue down the line for 8 hours. I don’t know what it is. I think I just allow myself to zone out, but hey, it’s paid work and I’m enjoying it.

But yes, I am employable and I feel as if I have a purpose. Sure, I’m only packing radishes and not contributing a huge amount to society (unless you love radishes) but when my alarm goes off in the morning, I have a reason to get up, I have a reason to be on time, I have a schedule, and when I get home I’m exhausted and I love it. That may seem a rather strange thing to say, but it’s an exhaustion that isn’t being caused by depression or my faulty heart. It’s an exhaustion from doing something and I’d take that over anything at the moment.

Life can be pretty crap, and even if I’m feeling as tired as I usually am, I’m happy that it’s for a half decent reason. I feel a little more like a person. Heck I’m pretty down, but I’m a person; I’m not a disease of the heart or mind.

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