Thursday, 1 October 2009

Thursday 1 October 2009

This morning I wake up feeling positive, there appears to be some kind of momentum attached to my movements at the moment. Lets see how long this holds out and lasts.

Outside in the real world it is another beautiful day. This is good, this is what it is all about.

My day begins with the song “This Ain’t No Picnic” by the Minutemen ruminating in my head, looping on repetition. Luckily it is a song with a groove and helps me keep active and smiling as I plunder through my first motions of the day.

The train journey/commute is nothing to write home about. When the train arrives at Liverpool Street the time is 8.04AM and it is boringly late. As we all exit the train like herds of sheep stepping towards our electric demise the Floppy Haired Cunt shows some manners by not cutting in front of me getting off the carriage. He may be learning.

As I pass The Metro newsstand it looks very scruffy this morning. If ever there was a time it needed Chinese OCD Man it is now.

While I wait on the platform for a tube to take me to Baker Street as ever I see the Minipino. I really cannot work out her age, she is tiny!

Today I step into work with a new game plan. It is now the first of the month so a new month deserves a new approach to proceedings.

After quickly uploading the Andy Nice review I tear into the intercompany differences. These have never reconciled since the consultant got hold of and touched the accounts. Even though there were other areas of the accounts that were a bit soft this was always an area that I used to reconcile religiously every month. As soon as the consultant threw these out of the window I knew he was full of shit and that we were in trouble.

Beyond this however thankfully the morning pans out without drama.

For lunch I have Parmesan breaded chicken with linguini. It works out for me.

In the afternoon the boss comes in to review the March accounts of the new company that the consultant got the outsource guy to do (making them the accounting equivalent of the Chuckle Brothers).

Has Chris Morris come clean about creating Ndubz as a prank yet?

Soon home time arrives and with it a swift spring across town to Liverpool Street and the first train home to Colchester. Ultimately this is just one of those days where these things cannot happen too soon.

When I eventually get home it is a typical Thursday evening, drab and expansive in a way that makes a person think of better times and hover around regret. Thursday as the new Friday never really quite happened for me.

Before long I am nodding off and falling asleep putting this day out of its misery.

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