Yesterday I slept for 18 hours in a 24 hour period. I was immensely tired - so tired that I didn't even care that there was a large beetle crawling about underneath my quilt. I merely scooped it up with a piece of paper and threw the wriggling cretin out of the window. Luckily for beetles they have the cute factor with non-spindly legs and little feelers. If it had been a daddy-long-legs or spider I would have probably ran away to Tiperari ignoring the fact that I was ready to collapse in an unconscious state.

Anyhoo, today I am pleased to say that I got out of my lazy bed and went-a hunting. Job hunting that is. I tried for a waitressing job only to be told they didn't need anyone until December. I tried the God-forbidden place I worked at for two years - Argos (or Argooooose as Richard E. Grant likes to call it) and am now waiting for them to phone me. They were interviewing new people and I longed to scream "Take ME you fools, MEEEEEE!" and finally I got an application form from Currys, which I probably won't bother filling in if I'm honest as they're only wanting Sunday staff.

Still, I start (and finish) filming on Friday for good old BBC1. That sounds so much more impressive than it will likely be, but I suppose no one need know that.

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