Friday 29 May 2009

Dream: I am eating hot French fries.

Annoyingly whenever I have food eating dreams I always wake up in the morning feeling bloated and fatter. Even worse are the dreams where I imagine I am eating a giant marshmallow and I awaken to find my pillow has disappeared or been stolen.

It is a warm morning today, beautiful in every way. With the light blue sky mornings of the moment obviously I wake up around 5AM. This will take its toll by the end of the day.

As I choose the songs to add to my iPod I am overcome with an urge to hear “Kentucky Fried Flow” as it sticks in my head producing a stupid mood in me. The song sounds fantastic, like it has never been away.

On the walk to the station I appear to be part of a group of four walking en mass. Obviously I am fourth, trailing in a broken commuter convey staggering its way to work.

Again this morning there are less people on the platform for whatever reason, which is a relief.

As I flick through The Metro this morning it suddenly occurs to me that I spend more time on the TV listings page than I do the rest of the paper combined. Is this a sign of my ignorance or the lack of quality in the newspaper?

This morning I once more find myself sitting next to a attractive hardfaced lady whose double chin for some reason I find attractive as she sleeps her way through the journey. I wonder if she is nice.

The train rolls into Liverpool Street at 8.06 this morning – pathetic.

Almost daily now I see the Baker Street wife on the train and almost daily it serves to depress me with memories of that awful place.

At Moorgate I see a young lady waiting for a tube in the opposite direction. She is carrying/holding a little dog. What’s the deal with that? Do dogs have their own tickets yet? Does it have an Oyster card? Does the owner have to pay twice for it? She should be made to.

As I walk into work today it feels as if I am walking into a royal shitstorm. It would appear that my bosses staged a 7AM emergency meeting and now off the back of an email received this morning from the accounts consultant the April accounts have been knocked straight back into my court when the draft set were sent to him yesterday pretty much finished.

Regardless of this I power through and perform various adjustments that only make the accounts show a bigger loss with each change. Perhaps they should have been left as they were. Also this is couple with my finding every time I look closer at the figures and the WTRs (weekly trading reports) there have been mispostings everywhere – it looks like the IT Guy has really dropped the ball here.

Mid morning I speak to the accounts consultant who picks me up on some whacko balance in the prepayments that pretty much wholly originate from his adjustments months ago, adjustments he appears to have since long forgotten about. I immediately fire back a comprehensive listing of his adjustments which is hardly likely to make me popular but does come some way to abstain me from responsibility.

For lunch I have a lamb burger with wok fried vegetables. Thankfully when I head down to collect the food my Mexican/Brazilian friend is nowhere to be seen.

I had been hoping to meet up with my friend in Holland Park today but as the day goes on all I get is radio silence and usually if she is going to get in touch/respond it tends to be immediate. Additionally I do not hear from Vice Magazine about my missing subscription either all in all equating to something of a failing day of feeling unloved by the populous.

We finish at 4.45 and I end up having drinks with the boss but I’m not interested tonight I just want to head home. Regardless of this he still leaves ahead of me at just before 6.30 as the restaurant starts looking like it is going to be pretty busy this evening.

Now exiting St Johns Wood I head towards Oxford Street with the view of buying records (as if I don’t have enough already).

Tonight is the most gorgeous, blazing summer evening and with this comes poodling tourists in the hundreds and the subtle act of shoving/pushing them out of the way. I only do this because I envy them their existence of having a place to go and somewhere to be with people that do not concern them.

I perform an HMV run spending £20.91 on seven inches most of which are probably likely to be awful and then I head home with nowhere better to be and nothing to do. Just where did all my friends go?

I feel blue this evening, a dark blue opposite to the tone of the brilliant sky above. As the evening arrives at 8PM the brightness makes it still look like midday. This is the kind of evening that makes you feel lonely the most.

Once back in Essex after a nondescript train journey home I briefly stop by the parents at Balkerne Heights before heading back to my flat and straight to bed with nothing better to do. I need a girlfriend.