Friday 3 July 2009

Today I wake up at 8.35 after a disturbed night of poor sleep. Often during the night I felt that somebody was watching me and my left fore finger is now swelling up scarily as it would appear a heavy pouch of puss is forming beneath. This fucking hurts.

The heat has broken today and a breeze has returned along with some clouds. The elements no longer feel suffocating.

I want no part of television this morning and after a few false starts in my listening choices I end up listening to the Hour Of Slack podcast, the weekly message from the Church Of Subgenius. This is awesome.

Early into the morning Eleanor emails to say that she has a spare Pixies ticket for October and would I like to take it. I jump at the opportunity.

At 11.31 my boss texts sending a group message for all of us accounts stiffs to come into work on Monday “dressed to move accounts office.” That doesn’t sound fun.

This morning I settle down to watch How To Loss Friends And Alienate People which was the only movie my American friend and I saw together. Obviously this now means the film comes with baggage of a great Friday night during summer in Leicester Square. I waste my life feasting on such memories.

The movie actually really holds up. I chose to watch it in order to hopefully spark some kind of energy and enthusiasm into my writing off the back of Toby Young’s shenanigans and to an extent it works but not as much as the times when I read the book and when I first watched the movie. I love the story of this life, oh a writer making a prat of himself for the cause of writing. The story actually seems to take a turn for the worse when he begins to make a success of things but in the meantime the build up and horrible mini dramas tickle and ring very true.

Around midday the garage calls and my car is done, ahead of time. It sounds like the problem was just a fuse, a very minimal problem but having driven it around the block they have now found something wrong with the brakes and they are asking me if I want to get that done while it is in the shop. Happy that I have my car again and it is sounding as if it will not cost big bucks I comply.

In the afternoon while Andrew Murray is losing the tennis I listen to Danny Baker who broadcasts as if he could care less as Murray suddenly turns to being British back to being Scottish.

Just after 5PM my boss calls me to see that I have had a good holiday and I think to make sure that I am actually returning to work on Monday. He gives me an update on the state of the offices and tells me to be prepared to do some grunt work next week and be suitably dressed for it.

Fifteen minutes later the garage calls me to tell me that my car is ready. They have no sorted out both what was preventing it from work (a fuse!) and the rear brakes. All in all its going to cost me £122, which to be honest is a lot less than I was expecting it to be so comes as a slight relief. The sad reality though is that the whole problem this week has been caused by one little fuse that costs 25p. In essence these guys only really had to invoice me for 25p, they probably cured this problem within minutes of looking at the car. Oh well, they repair cars and I prepare accounts – swings and roundabouts.

Happy to be back in my own car I pop around the olds and blag some dinner (after they have had theirs) before we go to pick up their Fiesta from Lexden.

There is a genuine air of optimism attached to proceedings this evening. Even though outside it is the most beautiful of the year so far it does not concern me that I am home alone. Would it really be any better if I were anywhere else? Would the sun be shining any brighter? Would the perfectly measured warmth to the evening be any more perfect? Somehow I truly feel exuberant.

Worryingly this evening I receive an email from myself with the subject line “Be her strong animal.” I need a girlfriend.

Tonight on Big Brother is harsh. In the show before the eviction Marcus is at Sree’s throat and when summonsed to the diary room they hint at him being racist. Personally I do not think he was but you could see how other people, more sensitive people, could see it as racist.

Later it ends up being Sree evicted from the house which is perhaps a good thing because were he and Marcus to clash any further there might be blood. In his exist interview Sree appear completely aloof to his bullshit. To his credit when confronted by Davina et al he does lose his superiority complex but basically he plays himself and does not do his cause any favours.

With that my Friday (and holiday) ends.