Thursday 1 April 2010 – APRIL FOOLS DAY
Step outside Posh Boy.
When I wake up this morning it is light outside but that still does not prevent me from having a headache. Something is going wrong at the moment. Perhaps it is my change in diet, an apparent swing towards being/getting healthy that isn’t necessarily agreeing with my body. What a fuck up.
This morning GMTV reads out the April Fools Day stories in the newspapers in a vain attempt to display a sense of humour. As John Stapleton licks one of the tabloids all his remaining serious journalist/press credentials go flying out of the GMTV window.
In theory today should be the most fun day of the year. Also the train should be quiet as people get out of work a day early with view to leaving for Easter but sadly the resulting effect is only minimal. Instead sat opposite me on the journey is a quite tense looking man, stretching his legs out in boredom and unease. As he glazes he doesn’t look happy, he actually looks angry and tormented by the reality of being on this train at this time (this morning). Why did I choose to sit near this guy?
No one is smiling on this train today.
Eventually emerging at Liverpool Street there is a poor girl handing out the Rail Strike details leaflet. This is a tactical appointment because despite being short the lady is attractive and there is no way us commuters are going to take it out on her, she is too pretty to blame for this bullshit. Had it been some gawky lard arse then we may have been spitting at him while grabbing the lame info shit.
As I sit down on the tube I unfold the leaflet and it takes several words and paragraphs for Network Rail to just say “its not us, it’s the RMT.” Maybe this itself is an April fool joke.
The tube journey across town echoes the quiet of the train ride and when I eventually exit and arrive into the restaurant all is well.
Today the Filipino comes in wearing the same clothes as yesterday it would appear. Did she get lucky last night? Regardless it’s a good look.
Early on into proceedings tonight’s meet up, drinks and food gets cancelled by Mark again. This is truly flaky, this is getting beyond a joke now especially in the light of his absence the other Saturday. I feel genuinely disappointed. For a moment I consider responding “man the fuck up” but that could only ever cause me unnecessary grief.
I have a deadline on today that means I need to get the January accounts for the new company done by the end of play. Unfortunately I cannot remember or recall how far I got with them before I was pulled off them.
Soon lunchtime arrives and I still have not really got started on the accounts. Undaunted however I order penne with merguez for dinner. Makes a change from chicken.
Late in the afternoon the proposed rail strike for next week gets called off by the courts. With this news I fire a sight of relief.
In the end I pull the accounts together and meet my deadline. There’s no fanfare just satisfaction in my doing it.
Fortunately just before leaving for the long weekend I remember to send out the cash wage forms/sheets.
When I walk to St Johns Wood station it is in the pissing rain. On the tube tonight we get subjected to the loudest Information Jimmy ever.
I wind up on the 6PM Norwich train and indeed I spot Sarah scowling and avoiding me as usual. Her loss.
The journey is fucked, I sense that this is the rail staff getting revenge for losing their additional time off next week. That or the brown witch caused it.
At Hatfield Peverel Information Jimmy reports that the slow running of this train is due to it being stuck behind a slow moving train ahead. This is not an excuse. Finally we fucking beach just past Witham. By this point I should be in my car bowling home. God hates me.