Thursday 17 December 2009
I wake up OK on the whole this morning although at the same time my insides do feel as if they will soon cause me to cease breathing. That doesn’t sound good, not even OK if I am honest.
The Balkerne Heights website action looms heavy over my head immediately as it plays on my mind overriding everything else in my world including Christmas. Way to ruin Christmas peoples.
Once I am finally on a train hurtling towards London and away from Colchester I manage to find some kind of grip on reality and cease to my panic. When the train stops at Witham a lady boards that looks like my brief friend from Dedham in the summer. This provides sufficient distraction away from my worries and reminds me of more interesting and fun times, times when I felt better about my standing and myself. Perhaps I should go back and touch base with her. Then again maybe not.
It is a pleasant train this morning representing the gradual closing down of business for the Christmas season. In the carriage people are sparse and room/space is plenty meaning that I don’t have some dullard salaryman (or salarywoman) crushed into the seat next to me getting in the way of my basic breathing.
Eventually I get to St Johns Wood and as I cross Finchley Road I step out in front of a car at the crossing just because he is not indicating that he is turning. Why do I do these things? I sure have a lot of front for a person staring down a two tonne automobile that can end my life should it decide to plough through me. Such is my cavalier approach to life at these times.
When I step into work vibes are good and optimistic. As I check my email the guy interested in interviewing me for my Facebook Cull blog has got back to me and it all sounds good. Suddenly from somewhere I find focus for the day.
At various points of the day I begin to feel sick with nerves. Away from fun matters I do not walk into work to a response from the solicitor as I was expecting and hoping to, so as a result who knows what the fuck is going on there behind the scenes. It is hard to be cavalier towards legal types like Hunter S Thompson when they don’t get back to you.
Today certain people (bosses) are a bit tetchy so I figure it is a good time to keep my head down and nail my work. Later a brief chat with my boss describes a change in-group structure with a reasoning behind it which I had been thinking since the others mentioned it to me the other day. It sounds a lot of work is ahead of us but it also points towards a happier bank for us.
Briefly this afternoon I fill with my fear as my iPhone experiences coma mode for the first time since September/October. I really hope its not going to pack up for Christmas, I want to take photos. Then again it had a rough weekend like the rest of us and perhaps I did push it too far.
For lunch I have sausages and beans with some fries at some point. My cavalier choice of dinner points to a sure-fire lack of concern in certain areas brought on by a lot of concern in others (the obvious). This is good stuff, these bangers kill.
Eventually I play out the day awaiting a response from the solicitor that never comes. I really don’t want this dark cloud hanging over Christmas. At what do I now come clean to my parents about what is going on? When I have good news? When I have bad news? When I am having to put my savings towards hiring a solicitor of my own. Why don’t my friends go through this kind of shit, what makes me special? What is it that I do wrong and they don’t?
In the end the day closes with things going well work wise and the accounts slowly coming together in an orderly fashion with things looking like they will be in a good position for when we break up on Christmas Eve.
As I head home tonight when I change tube lines at Baker Street I see James from Baker Street stood on the Metropolitan Line platform wearing a stupid hat. My natural instinct is to wave before the pair of us seem to realise who one another really are and we mutually refrain from acknowledging each other. In the words of Zoë “pretentious.”
When I arrive at Liverpool Street it is once more to fucked trains. In the end I wind up on the 6.22PM train to Clacton and it takes an eternity to just get to Shenfield. Later when the train stops at Ingatestone it comes with the realisation that you just know you are on a bad train when it stops at Ingatestone. I once went for a job in this town (village?) during my period of blogging unemployment and to date it is the only time I have ever visited the place as the experience truly cut deep and left a scar on me as even before the interview I had been describe as “plodding” to one of my interviewees and during the interview itself one of them just yawned his way through proceedings suggesting that the role was dead on arrival. Faced with things such as that a person could have got paranoid during in that period.
Later as the train does the final leg of my journey home Essex looks OK until we reach/hit Kelvedon and suddenly there is a blanket of snow everywhere to be seen. When I finally get off the train at Colchester I spot Epiphany Girl before I am immediately smacked in the face by gusts of wind carrying snow that shoots into my face and heads up my nose looking to suffocate me in the process it would seem.
Originally with no milk or cereal at home I had planned to hit Asda but faced with such conditions tonight I decide to head straight home and cancel the trip for fear of what travel conditions lay ahead. Thankfully though the drive turns out not to be as perilous as I was fearing although I do have to take it easy and drive a lot more sensible and slower than usual. Driving in snow and the subsequent ice is something that puts the fear of god into me.
Once back inside Bohemian Grove I begin texting people in London to see if they have snow also and it would appear that it is only Essex that is being battered at this time. As I text over photos to people they are received with a response of shock.