Who am I? I’m so tired I can’t feel my face. 

Why is that Jenn? You poor little sausage.

Gina and I have come to the conclusion that working for free in London means you have to eat, which involves something called money (dunno what this is, someone please educate me on what it means to be given ‘money’ for working all hours god sends.) (I’m being sarcastic, I’m bitter) (You get it, I know.)

So now we’re flyering for a dentist outside Victoria station between the hilarious hours of 7am and 9am. AM. A.M. am. AM… I MENTAL? TIRED? YES. 

Anyhoo so work is coming along nicely. Pitfield People has been a success! (woop woop for successes, boo hiss to early mornings.)

So it’s Thursday, Rachel (lovely writer I work with) has brought in brownies and banana bread that she made herself. Well done Rachel, you are a shining light in my cloud of sad faces and poor sausages. 

Right so, after I stopped feeling sorry for myself, it appears I have developed a drug addiction- Starbucks coffee. What is this sorcery? They have even given me a cute nickname too- Jany. I LIE THEY CAN’T SPELL OR HEAR. For the love of god Starkbucks, all I need at 8.30am is a friend, not somebody that did not get C or above in GSCE Hearing (Crothers ya making no sense, get back on track.)

Talking of tracks, choo choo, off to Norwich this weekend. Anyone that’s about message me to meet up, if I don’t reply to you, I genuinely don’t like you because I have a lot of free time to kill, so take that as an insult and remove me from your friendship circle.

Sorry I’m being a bitch.

PROBABLY BECAUSE I HAVE TO WARM MYSELF UP WITH A HAIRDRYER AT 6AM. (Pic no. 1)

Oh this is exciting, Twatter (Lord of the Dance, Mayor of InstaGush and hence forth twice removed title of office DJ) and I went to photograph the Commitments cast as they arrived at the Palace Theatre. Sounds glam, only Twatter and I were sodden to the skin. Look at Twatter dancing about, what a total babe/ moron.

And if that’s not enough to make you smile, underneath that picture you can see our very own Gina dancing whilst flyering. I am sad to say that this picture is a false illusion of happiness. She started her Dick Van Dyke impressions up again, ‘Geeeeet your dentist vaaachers.’

So, after consuming 3871298371 coffees, losing about 10 hours sleep, cold showers and casual tsunamis, it all makes for a cheeky nap at work and full of bouts of poor sausage syndrome. (Pic no. 9)

My abs hurt from working out so much #legend.

Dunno what else to say really.

I look bloody fantastic in that red hat.

Work drinks tonight. Cup of tea right now. Berlin in a few weeks. Couchsurfing buddy visiting on the weekend. Gina’s behind me. Going to Pitfield later to photograph some people. New job on Monday.

Yup. 

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