Insomnia

You only ever get insomnia, I find, when you have loads to do the next day. (I can see anyone who knows me raising an enquiring eyebrow at this point, strongly implying that the chances of me having anything to do are remarkably low). As a result of spending hours doing battle with idiot travel agents on the phone this morning and finally getting a flight booked to Buenos Aires in a few weeks, I now have multiple annoying niggling tasks to complete tomorrow (technically later today, but thinking like that just makes life complex).
1. Return overdue library books. Libraries are an awesome idea, except for this whole concept of 'fines'. There are some people - obviously including me - who are just incapable of remembering to return them on time. As a result, I have spent hundreds of pounds over the years on stupid fines. Why can't there be a compromise like... um... in future, you can only take out one book at a time. That would be a much better punishment, at least reducing future fines.
2. Change mobile phone tariff. Which knowing my sodding luck I wont be able to do for some obscure reason - there'll be some small print added to the contract, placed there by the company for the sole reason of cheesing me off.
3. Tidy the house. Since at the moment I'm staying in my Mother's house and she's returning in a couple of days. She probably knows I've lived by the settee for the last few days but doesn't really need the evidence of it.
4. I've no idea, I'm tired. I've forgotten. I should really have written these down earlier.
Maybe I should get one of those geeky dictaphone things and just talk into it whenever I have an idea. Seriously, surely you arent supposed to be my age - rapidly approaching 23, yikes - and not be able to remember stuff for more than five seconds. I've been known to call someone to specifically ask them something and by the time the ringing has stopped, I've forgotten the question. The line, 'if you can't remember it can't have been important' just doesn't work in relation to me.
Apologies going out to anybody tuning in for either a decent rant or at least some vaguely interesting viewpoint on something. Its nearly 2am, I didn't get much sleep last night, I'm basically only writing this so that I'd eventually reach a point of being totally shattered and fall asleep. Probably my laptop will slip from my bed at that time, smash on the floor, and today will just get worse.
Speaking of which, didn't rant about my awful experience in Boots today. (That would be a chemists). For one - and sorry guys, but its relevant - I hate buying 'women's stuff' at the best of times. You always end up with some spotty teenage lad who is so embarrassed and that makes you embarrassed... Anyway, I digress. So having armed self with suitable quantities of 'women's stuff' I stand in the queue to pay. Stupidly long queue, being a bank holiday. For some unknown reason, my contact lens takes the opportunity to step into the limelight and randomly fall out of my eye. Having attracted attention of entire queue by messing about with that for a few minutes (just so that EVERYONE knew what I was buying) , then finally make it to the front to hear that apparently my product was on a '3 for 2' special. Of course, one feels obliged to take advantage of this, which saw me charging to the other side of the store to collect my third item, skidding round the aisle and thus twisting my ankle. Hobbled back redder than I ever thought possible to confront the enraged queue and stuff change into pocket before gallopping out the door as best as one can with a throbbing ankle.
Note to self - never go back there.
I'm sorry, readers, I've developed rapidly into one of those amazingly boring bloggers who says sod all enlightening, interesting, or otherwise. Its late, I'm tired, I promise better things in a couple of days. Sigh - the responsibility that comes with a blog.