A Rainy Day on Mars

Spent the day tidying my room, all the time feeling strangely bad about myself, like the fact that I'm in a crappy job yet, despite having numerous career advice discussions, I haven't made any efforts to escape. Even I don't know why I do this. Well, I know it's partially the fear of the unknown: financially, since I'm actually in a job, I'm not sure if I could get any funding or financial 'help' if I went for a degree course or something. I have rent to pay each month - which also brings me to another concern, that I don't have a new cheque book; mum said she was sure one came for me a couple of months ago, but I'm almost certain I didn't get one. In fact, I'd say it was a 24 carat gold, diamond-encrusted fact that I haven't got another one. I've been just 'hanging on' the last few days to see if one does turn up in the post, but I resolved today, that if I don't get it tomorrow, I'll have to phone the bank (and I hate making phone calls...). I've gone way off-topic, now. I'd better look at the OU website tomorrow, too. What, really, is the point in wasting my life in a job where I just feel like a skivvy? None.
Getting a bit suspicious something's going on with my computer. Sometimes when I'm on the 'net these little rotating envelopes come up in the system tray with a little message saying 'Mail Delivery Complete' - but I never sent anything. What could that be? Also, sometimes a message comes up asking if I want to cancel a fax. I do, just out of sheer bloodymindedness - somehow I love the thought that stopping the fax (whatever it is) really pisses off the person trying to use my computer to send it. Cathartic exercise at it's best, methinks.