I suppose a lot has happened since I last wrote. I've spent the last five weeks working in an Italian restaurant - a really awful Italian restaurant. I say 'awful' - the food is actually pretty good, but my boss was the biggest wanker I've ever met, the other waiters were rude because I don't speak Italian, and I was underpaid. Like, really, seriously, underpaid. They currently owe me about £400 because they weren't paying me minimum wage, but I also didn't have a contract, so I'm not really sure what I can do about it. They also didn't give me all the tips I was entitled to, so...
Still. Fuck Giovanni.
I've finished there now, so I've been off since Saturday. I was meant to finish on Sunday, but I felt really ill on Saturday and went home (to the utter horror of Giovanni, who couldn't understand that PEOPLE GET ILL), and Dan took me to the hospital on Sunday. He was really worried!! He immediately decided that I had appendicitis, because I'd had stomach pains for a day or so, but it turned out that it was a bladder infection instead. Dan's been really sweet to me all weekend because of it, and we went out for lunch today. It's a shame my appetite's died, really. I went in to the restaurant to collect my last week's wages, where Giovanni tried to guilt-trip me about being ill, but I just didn't care (and was very tempted to say FUCK YOU when I left). Maureen took me to Waitrose, and then I was too tired to do anything else after that.
Tomorrow, we're off to Norwich, and then to France on Friday! I'm very excited - in some ways, but sometimes I'd rather we could just stay here and be us.
Harvey is being ill. I feel like I should go and help, but I'd probably be ill myself. Still, Dan's back now - and there's popcorn downstairs too.