Happy Easter. A bit late, yes, but at least I said it.

Not that Easter even means very much to me. I don't know, we just never seem to do anything for it.

This Easter brought one Easter egg. One. That's right. ONE. I probably sound very ungrateful, but I have reason to be outraged. Years ago, one of my aunts decided we weren't doing Easter eggs. This was after her own children got them right up till they were, like, eighteen or something. So my brothers and I have been deprived of years of Easter eggs. It's a sodding outrage. How can one be too old for chocolate? How? Especially with the way I'm eating just now.

I swear, I don't stop. I am a walking, talking eating machine. I'm constantly hungry. It's probably something to do with hormones and steroids and actually being able to eat again, but man alive. It's so nice to be able to eat chocolate and crisps and chips and general crap again. Loving it!

And my Internet connection has just died so that's great. I wonder how long it'll take to restart... Hmmm...

And I'm rather annoyed that there's another website out there calling itself Matt-Willis.org. It's not Matt-Willis.org. I am. I paid for the damn domain. £20 it's cost me, and I'm unemployed. Does that mean nothing? They're fan-sites.org/matt-willis It's not the same. AT ALL.

So there we go.

Hmph etc.

I don't even know what I'm saying any more.

Well, I've finally done it. I've got myself a job!

I'll be working 20hours a week in a call centre which is within 15 minutes' walking distance from me. I'll be taking orders from a fat people's catalogue, and get to laugh to myself at old ladies looking for bras which could pass for parachutes.

Nice, huh?

Ok, so it's not my ideal job. In other words, it's not French Connection or TopShop. But a job's a job, and it'll do for now.

And it'll cover clothes from French Connection and TopShop for my holidays! Yay!

Yeah, so that's the pressure off of finding a job now. I can go back to spending my days watching crap tv and so on.

In other news, wo people I don't believe I know have just added me to MSN and I am really, really confused.

Not that it takes much.

Wow, they're calling me a slag. Ha, cool. I've never had that before.

They clearly don't know me.

Not much to update you on really.

I had an interview on Friday. Hoorah! But - there's always a but - the job was in Ibrox.

Now, I don't have anything against Ibrox -

No, hang on. I do. It's a hole. That is the nicest way of putting it. I got off the Underground and wanted to get straight back on again. I'm a big snob at heart, I really am. But seriously. It's terrifying.

The job was selling accidental death insurance - I would be the one needing accidental death insurance if I was working out there!

I'm starting to wish I'd known this was going to happen sooner, so I could've saved up a bit... Then maybe gone abroad and worked for the summer. Because it's so much easier to do that than it is to get a job here. It's damn near impossible to get a job here.

I think I've phoned every shop in Glasgow at least twice begging and checked every single recruitment site under the sun at least three times a day. It's not like I'm not trying - I really, really am. There's nothing more that I can do. And it's just so frustrating that I'm putting in all of this effort and getting nowhere.

I'm going to end up working in McDonald's, I can feel it.

And that, quite frankly, just makes me want to cry.

I phoned the Benefits people this morning, wanting to know where the hell my money was (I put it a bit more politely than that), and it could take another 8 weeks. 8 sodding weeks. I have a holiday to pay for this month. And a social life to keep going. They are so inconsiderate.

Ok, so I should technically be working and not have to claim money from the government, but believe me. I would love to be working. If I didn't have stupid Crohn's disease, I wouldn't have had to have left university and I wouldn't be where I am now.

So all in all, it's my bowel's fault.

Nice, rational thinking there, Linds.

I was at the cinema with Elaine this weekend. It was good fun, hadn't seen her in a while, so that was nice. We went to see Failure to Launch, with the god-like creature that is Sarah Jessica Parker in it. The woman's amazing, I envy her so much. It was a nice film, the sort that makes you smile, and that Matthew McConaughey is utterly delicious, so it was a fabulous evening over all!

Train ride home was even more entertaining. A real live ned with a bottle of Buckfast was sharing our carriage. And he didn't shut up the whole way home. He was informing some bloke that if he stuck with him, he'd be safe. Good to know.

The best bit was when he struck up a conversation with a girl sitting across from him, and two seconds later he was practically on top of her, snogging the face off her. Honest to God! I couldn't believe my eyes. I was sitting kicking Elaine going, "LOOK! LOOOOK!"

Then a couple in their 30s started having a carry-on, and the woman was licking the man's bald head before she pushed him off his seat.

There must've been something in the air that night.

That stars so bright! Fernando!

Aye.

I'll go before I get started on another, "omgZ y cant i get a job?!!!!11eleven!1!" rant.