It's fucking freezing and I can't find my wooly hat.

FLASHY STYLE UPDATE:

Bunny Girl has been rehomed with a lady called Isla who has guaranteed that she won't euthanize her unless it becomes medically necessary. My life is now shared by little miss Lola Ana Sophie Moose-Bun (who wanted a better name than Dusty Goldfrapp Suzuki Preston) who ended up with Isla because her moronic breeder apparently couldn't sell an "old" (two and a half months) rabbit. She is a Netherland Dwarf, so she has a cage, which Dusty would never tolerate, and she seems quite placid and very sweet, though not as laid back as El Dust. She's clearly been handled a lot, which makes life easier for me, and she likes to sit on your chest. I'm trying to suss out what else she likes, but my overriding emotion at the minute is WTF THIS ISN'T DUSTY. It will change, anon.

I went to the head of programme to talk about the Tutor of Fail, and was told her mother died over the summer. Now I feel like an evil wench and still don't have my placement form filled in.

Tomorrow I am going to Sunderland to be assessed fit for practic learning. I am scared.

I am on quetiapine, which is producing the pleasant sensation of being suspended upside down in a tub full of water and Valium. Slight downsides:if you sit for more than five minutes your blood pressure slam dunks when you get up and you almost/actually pass out, depending how long you were sat for. Also I am so, so, so fucking tired.

I just had a delicious bagel, now THAT'S what the LJ massive want to read about.