It's fecking August.
AUGUST!

I've achieved nothing worth noting this year so far.
I've done some vague things of interest, like, went to a museum at some point.
I've started doing barre chords.
I can't tell the person I like, I like them, even though they know I like them, because I am a big wuss, scared of scaring people off and can't stand the polite rejection.
I've not found a new job (alright, I've not been looking, but that's because I've no idea what I want to do or where I want to be any more.)
I'm still quite skint, most of the time.
I *have* developed a minor social life.
I've not read nearly as many books as I set out to do.
I've not thrown my own frisbee this year. Or played kubb.
I still haven't won the lottery.

The only way is up, said Yazz. I say: No.
The only way is developing a spine and a sense of direction.

PS: Someone outside in a shit car is playing Peter Andre, very very loud, in place of the usual drum and bass crap they usually do. And there's a fight, not Andre related.

PPS: The Three Amigos is now (again), this'll cheer me up.