I used wikipedia, it kind of made sense that the meltdown thing wot happened the other week was an anxiety attack of some form. It was reassuring to know, what happened had a name. Next time it happens I can just think to myself "Ah ha, this is an anxiety attack, chill out, it'll be over soon"
But on discussing it with friends, it turns out it wasn't an anxiety attack.
Ah well, back to the rollercoaster of lurching from one imagined crisis to the next.
Was out jogging with Fiona the other day, she suggested I got my hair cut to help meet people, and upon my demands for empirical evidence to support the suggestion she came up with this...
Go to three gigs and record how much amorous action I get, then get my hair cut and go to three gigs and record any amorous stuff, then comapre the results.
Well, two gigs down and the hair cut is going to have some stiff opposition. On Saturday night I got a hug from MJ Hibbett and made eye contact with a girl on the underground, and then last night I spoke to two girls who I knew from gigs and avoided talking to a really hott girl who sat next to me.
Truly, there's no way getting my hair cut could possibly beat that sort of love action.
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