Saturday, 6 June 2009

Saturday 6 June 2009

Good morning. I fell asleep far too early last night and this morning I had fairly vivid dreams that involve comedians I vaguely know and following them to a combination of the Latitude festival and Edinburgh festival. As I step into a restaurant out of the blue I bump into Szesze’s brother Martin. He remembers me and we get into conversation. Suddenly his Chinese accent and not quite perfect English are gone and he speaks clearer than me in a Hollywood accent. He tells me that Szesze is struggling and how she keeps meeting guys who he refers to as her “boyfriends” (I would seem I wasn’t high on the list). He adds however that the guys usually tend to lose interest when they meet her kids and see her apartment, which Martin describes as “the stable we live in.” There is a book that I am giving him to give to her to help out with her life. He makes no gestures that I should go see her and likewise I make no such suggestions of wanting to do so back. We then go our separate ways. The remaining details of the dream are hazy and probably embarrassing so best to leave them there as they begin to erase from my mind anyway.

Outside the day is dull. I have so much to do today and so little enthusiasm and energy for any of it. I’ve had four various invitations to do stuff in London today but the idea of hopping aboard a train today really does not appeal to me. Rain ahead is reported so best brace myself then.

Today is the 65th anniversary of the D-Day Normandy Landings, which is the reason why my boss is away in France at the moment (he has taken his mother to see the commemorations). The coverage is weird to me though, the media really appears to regard it as some kind of afterthought. Watching a veteran being interviewed at Arromanches the treatment and questioning by the reporter just really feels disrespectful, ignorant and almost patronising. He then reports that children at getting the veterans to autograph their books – what is that about?

As I head out to Asda up Layer Road there is one of those mobile speeding camera transit vans waiting in prey to catch and punish normal people going a little too fast and the occasional sports car maniac. These days it feels pretty close to impossible to accomplish the feat of breaking the speed limit on this road as every morning I appear to get stuck behind (and bemoan) car after car poodling along.

I get to Asda slightly later than usual this and with it comes a busier element to grocery shopping. My heart isn’t in it today. I see The Crab yet again and once more I wonder whether he recognises me. Sensibly I had breakfast before leaving so at least I am not grocery shopping on hunger impulse but actually having used week old milk the decision has served to act in the opposite direction as the bad taste lingers in my mouth putting me off buying any food products this week. As ever my basket fills with newspapers, the NME, juices, fizzy caffeine drinks and breakfast cereal. No treats this week but still a bill of £18 for buying next to nothing. Go figure.

Driving away from Asda it is met with a sigh. I don’t feel good about myself this morning and my mood is turning foul. As usual I take it out on the road and itch at the opportunity to act out some road rage. This begins straight away at the roundabout when exiting Asda as cars do not bother to indicate they are going into the car park. A little thing but still legitimate. Happily this gives me the opportunity to sound my horn. The big incident occurs when a landscaping truck decides to royally cut me up when leaving a roundabout. This turns out to actually be quite a close and harsh incident which I saw coming a mile off but with him 100% in the wrong I find myself able to indulge in castigating him and holding down my horn for an eternity while mouthing expletives and getting shit off my chest. I love it. I stare at the back of his commercial vehicle for a name or a company and then for a phone number and a “how am I driving?” sticker with view to really acting like a miserable cunt. I have no time or capacity in my tiny little insect mind to lodge any of this information so instead I just follow the truck aggressively for the next mile or so before we head off in separate directions. Suddenly it occurs to me that I am acting out some kind of David Cronenberg adaptation of a JG Ballard novel and I am getting a kick out of being so….dysfunctional. As I head up Maldon Road it is stuck behind another car slowing down my day. This only serves to niggle me more and after heading up St Helena Road as I rejoin Layer Road an SUV driving by a squaddie has decided he doesn’t need to indicate at the roundabout junction. Knowing exactly what he is going to do but not acknowledging it I begin driving into the roundabout when it is not my right of way EXCEPT because he has decided not to indicate it is now my right of way, as dangerous as it is. There is no real squirmish attached to this, as he finally turns on his indicator I yield in a very jobsworthy manner giving him a teacher/parent-esqe patronising look when really this man is actually a professional killer and could/would take me apart in minutes if he so chose to do so. Pissed off I rejoin Layer Road by putting my foot down. At this point a car on the other side of the road flashes me and he is alerting me to the speed camera van. Shit, in my stupid ridiculous childish paddy I had totally forgotten about it and this guy on the other side of the road is doing me a HUGE favour. After all my hostility to my fellow road users suddenly one has completely come to my rescue and suddenly my tone drops as I pass the rubbish speed camera van and my faith in the essential decency of man has come flying back into my consciousness. I am such a dick at times.

Back in the flat I have no heart in doing anything productive today. Last week when I returned from grocery shopping I hit the funny teas and they gave me some much-needed oomph, so this week I return to that philosophy in the hope that it repeats.

Pulling out my shopping I wonder if there is much better than a fresh jar of peanut butter and digging into it.

Alas it does not. When I see a friend’s Facebook status about receiving Kool-Aid through the post this morning I find myself distracted and getting into some kind of online communication with her. When it is discovered that you can get Kool-Aid and all sorts/kinds of other American sugary goodies in Ipswich (probably due to the many American airbases in the area) a brief offer/suggestion to go to Ipswich and check it out is put on the table. After much procrastination it doesn’t happen but by this time it has served to royally distract and derail the day.

From here I get down to doing some writing but the results are only minimal at best.

At 1PM Film4 begins showing the remake of The Honeymooners starring Cedric The Entertainer and this is a totally underrated movie full of yuks and good times. I know I shouldn’t be watching this on such a gorgeous day but it’s an excellent indulgence.

In the afternoon the sun comes out with real weight but thankfully the breeze remains ensuring things remain relatively comfortable.

Today on TV is Twins followed by The Black Hole. These movies are family classics and I flip them on acknowledge them in the distance.

There is so much I should be doing today but ultimately I accomplish nothing, I am 100% lazy. I do not even bother to get in touch with Mark which is pretty criminal considering how little he is in Colchester these days and how this is a rare treat/opportunity.

Ultimately though I sail out the remainder of the day doing nothing, stuff so inconsequential I cannot even be bothered to recount it.

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