Friday, 22 May 2009

Friday 22 May 2009

Dream: I find myself having sex/making love with/to a genuine person that I honestly and truly love. This is the most unlikely, far fetched and surreal dream I have had yet.

Regardless of the reality for a while the feelings born in the dream come through and optimism prevails during the early part of this brand new morning.

Today is Dante Hicks day for me – “I’m not even supposed to be here today.” I can only expect that it will be littered and filled with problems and grief.

When I get to the station the platform is bare/sparse. It would appear that I wasn’t the only person with the plan to take Friday off as holiday and hook a four day weekend with the bank holiday. Oh well, the best laid plans.

As the train passes through Kelvedon I look out of the window and see that there is a hot air balloon flying above representing some kind of freedom for someone at this hour. Wish you were here.

While riding the train in an act of insecure egotism I find myself reading parts of my own/this website. I come to the conclusion that these days my writing is best described as “dyslexic.” Feedback please, usual address.

I still need a shave.

Despite beaching twice outside Liverpool Street the train manages to pull in at 8AM again this morning. See, it can be done, it was not my imagination. Perhaps this is a sign of things/times improving and getting better. Maybe all those fucked up weekend rail replacement bus services off the back of track work is suddenly showing some kind of subtle improvement to proceedings. Sadly however once in London the tube decides to fuck me instead.

By the time I reach Baker Street to change lines I find myself confronted by the sight of a girl with cross eyes. You really don’t see many of these any more. What happened? Did they find a cure?

Today is a beautiful day which makes me pine for companionship. This weekend there are options to go out but they are not casual ones that I feel a popular and social person possesses. Yes, you know who I am thinking about at this time.

Fritzl appears to blank me as I head in this morning but maybe that is just in my head. Later what is inside my head becomes the main topic of discussion in the afternoon. I don’t feel I get much support from my co-workers sometimes, my team.

After work I end up in drinks with the boss and it is a pretty extended session lasting for around three hours and not really very many bases are covered. He drags the auditor into proceedings and eventually we end up sat outside on one of the brightest evenings of the year so far.

As conversation proceeds I bore slightly and space out as my boss says things that perhaps should not be told to the auditor but knowing the finances of the business myself there is nothing fraudulent going on that could/should/would really raise a real alarm.

Eventually my boss’s wife turns up and she doesn’t appear too impressed or amused that we have just sat and got drunk ahead of them having a meal at the restaurant that evening. As the auditor leaves I hold back not wanting to get involved in a tube journey with him and laboured discussion/conversation.

My boss’s wife insists she has seen/met me before and when it is established she is thinking of my predecessor Andy I hide a sense of insult with a joke and a smile. I also add that old line from the Simpsons episode “that’s the problem with first impressions, you only get to make them once.” Ouch, should I really be saying such things at this time? Luckily my boss displays scorn in his disagreement of this statement.

Not long afterwards I am heading home wishing I hadn’t spent the evening getting drunk.

When I eventually get back to Liverpool Street drunkenness hits me on the sobering 9PM Friday train to Lowestoft. As I attempt to get through Gate 10 at the station the gate wrecks my ticket – this is the annoying gate that damages travelcard strips, it has happened a few times before.

As I settle into my perch hoping not to suffer any ill affects on the way home this evening I spend the journey trying to work out if the girls sat opposite me listening to the new Tori Amos CD are twins. One is larger than the other but they definitely sport strong similarities. Perhaps one is the good twin and the other the evil twin.

My god I appear to be bored with the world.

The walk back to Balkerne Heights this evening is hard work and wobbly as the night ends on a stagnant note.

After that brief visit once home I look at what is on TV and all it has to offer is the Shaft remake followed by Just Friends later on. I soon fall asleep.

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