Wednesday 20 January 2010
I wake up feeling guilty and cold this morning, paranoid that there is a bad thing that I am still liable and responsible for. No doubt if there is actually such a thing I will soon be reprimanded for it sooner or later.
This is turning out to be a weird week. Here we are now at Humpday but the Tuesday Thursday Blur hasn’t really kicked in. In other words I just can’t wait for Friday to come.
As I wait on the platform for a train invariably arriving late somebody creeps and looms behind me. Is this the person I did a bad thing to? What is this about? Ultimately though it turns out to be a nobody extra. Later on of the two Kym Marsh lookalikes stands next to me at the platform. Without question she is attractive but scarily she also sports similar facial expressions to Zoë. Flashback alert.
In the end thankfully it is a comfy ride to Liverpool Street until we near our destination and my chest pains begin and kick in again. What is with me? How have I got into this state? Will I make it to forty without having a heart attack? This is a genuine consideration for me.
Just before reaching Liverpool Street some twat gets up and steps on my new DC shoes in the process. He doesn’t even bother to apologise and as a result I just want to kill him. Later I make a point of following him off the train with view to clipping his heels and stepping on his toes back. I am very petty like that, I suck. These are my failings and the majority of them I feel I can blame on commuting and the effect that public transport has on me.
After this nonsense the ride across town to St Johns Wood turns out to be eventless and devoid of drama. For some reason this year I am paying less attention to my surroundings on the train and tube. Whether this is a good thing is open to debate. Maybe its because the winter is making me more sleepy than usual. Maybe it is because I am listening to more podcasts instead of music. Who knows.
For a second day running work is OK. With the boss away I don’t set any records for productivity but also I still accomplish stuff all the same.
Again it is with relief when 5.30PM comes around and the escape that comes attached with it. Once at Liverpool Street I board the usual 6.20PM Norwich train where I find myself sat opposite the Modern Couple.
The Modern Couple are two people I see on this train most nights. He looks like a crap version of the wrestler Batista, a version I could beat up, and she looks like a midget that doesn’t have any teeth. First impressions are that they have a very strong relationship but also that they are a couple of crushing bores. I wonder about their lives, how exciting they truly are. They do not get off the train at Colchester so this means they are probably from either Ipswich or Norwich that would mean their daily journeys are even longer than my own. So when they arrive home around 8.30PM to 9PM just what is it that they do for fun? What is it that they do in order to justify such an existence? I really can’t imagine that they have kids if they are both full time commuters. I wonder if their house is big, I wonder what their combined salary is. She has a DS but they do not appear extravagant. Suddenly they make me feel uncomfortable as I sit opposite them, are their lives something I should be aspiring to?
Once back in Colchester on the way home I stop by Balkerne Heights where I go to see the parents and the dog. Tonight the dog seems strange, acting out of sorts looking almost depressed. I’m beginning to worry about him now, he appears to be slowing down.
By now the old man’s new PC has arrived from Dell and impressively he has managed to set it up. This computer runs on Windows 7 and it is just fucking horrible to use. For starters it doesn’t even identify drives. The desktop is just a complete and utter mess, for some reason yet again Microsoft appear to feel inclined to reinvent the wheel. This is just crap.
On Sky tonight is Liverpool v Spurs. Relatively early Kuyt scores for the Scousers and finally it looks like Liverpool are going to get a result. Not that it is in an exciting fashion.
At halftime I decide to head home and upon returning I discover that BBC1 has been showing the Carling Cup semi final between Aston Villa and Blackburn and as I begin looking at it (late in the game) the score is 5-4. I curse as it becomes evident that I have been watching the wrong game all night. At least I see Aston Villa score their sixth goal to finish the game at 6-4. Its football gone mad.
Beyond this there ain’t much left to do so I turn in on the day.