Monday 15 June 2009

I genuinely feel depressed today. The passing weekend should have been a great weekend but instead I’m beginning to feel/think that I am now just incapable of having any fun anymore. The past is now most definitely in the past now and any attempts to recoup, reimagine or recapture former victories and pleasure I don’t think are going to work now. I really need some time off.

With Piers Fletcher-Dervish snoring his head off the train pulls into Liverpool Street at 8.04 late.

When I eventually bowl into work for once in a while I’m not first in but it isn’t “Big Daddy” that has done the honours.

Today is a typical slow Monday morning and I take a very long time to get going on my work.

After my late night email to Vice Magazine regarding my missing subscription fails to gain response today I head to PayPal and attempt a refund but with the transaction now being older than 45 days (the apparent PayPal grievance period limit) my attempt fails. Then however a Gareth Johns gets in touch to apologise for the delay. Finally, some sign of life!

Happy with this I then attempt to buy more shoes online and finally I find some Airwalk shoes that I like. The last time I bought Airwalk I was mercilessly mocked for my apparent choice of the skater but those shoes were comfortable.

By the time I finally get going on work suddenly I find myself being hit by a barrage of work related questions from The Girl. This is of course after she tells us all how drunk she got at the weekend and how it ended up with her and her friend having a fight using a broom against a tennis racket. Now if they would let me video that I could sell that on the internet for decent pounds.

With so many delays occurring before I know it it is lunchtime. Today I keep it simple with fishcake and wok fried vegetables that today disturb me. This is a wrong combination and vegetables are just not something that should enter inside me body.

Eventually I manage to put in a very good performance of work in the afternoon before being disrupted at the death by nuisance enquiries. A headache kicks in for the latter half of the afternoon and I know I am in trouble.

Once out of work and on the train home as we pass through East London over the train PA we got told by Information Jimmy that lightening has struck equipment in the Harold Wood area and that the train is going to be delayed by 20 minutes. After a day such as this he may as well be smothering me with a pillow and killing me alive.

As the train grinds to the eventual halt Information Jimmy announces over the PA that the delay will now be 30 minutes. Despite this however they still have the fucking cheek/neck to check/inspect our tickets. How fucking dare they even contemplate issuing fines when so blatantly failing to fulfil and deliver their primary role and function. Quite audacious.

Rolling through Gidea Park the delay is officially increased to 40 minutes due to the lightening strikes. What the fuck is this, the Onedin Line?

God hates me.

As the train slowly moves like a sloth (if at all) my phone rings and it is the olds. I am too embarrassed to answer and whine down the phone in front of my fellow commuters but then a voicemail appears and it is the old man offering to pick me up from the station. He is so cool.

When the train eventually pulls into Colchester the rain is more torrential than ever and wearing a cream top that turns translucent as soon as any liquid hits it. I call up dad and thankfully the offer is still there to pick me up. When he arrives at the station ten minutes later the storm is still in full flow – I am eternally grateful.

Back at their place the dog is all over me, happy and excited as ever. Good times.

Soon I am home at Bohm Grove where I fall asleep to a combination of the Have I Got News For You repeat and Big Brother.