Monday 15 March 2010

Monday 15 March 2010

Annoyingly I am feeling more tired than expected today.  What went wrong with that?  Surely the weekend should have served to rejuvenate me, to refresh the batteries and set me up for the week ahead.

This morning still feeling delicate from my internal attacks of yesterday I opt out of breakfast, perhaps for the first time in five years.  Never will there be a more sure-fire sign that I am feeling out of sorts.

Today is one of those days where I get to the station on autopilot, operating on instinct and not necessarily feeling at the top of my game.  Is this what it is truly like to be one of the drones?

The Monday morning train finds myself being annoyed by some guy because of his hair.  It just looks so fucking stupid, like a Lego man.  The line is ridiculous, did he really go to the barbers and request to hide his shame by curating it into the style of Roy Keane from the nineties with view to wringing out some hardness.  He even looks like he’s ready for a fight while he is asleep.  What kind of person is this?

From here looking around I spot the guy sat opposite me is reading Kavalier & Clay which serves as a timely reminder me to that I have been so lame in starting that book ever since Racton gave it to me for my birthday last summer.  The guy himself has a gap in his teeth that annoys me too.

We get to London on time and from here I get work comfortably, rolling in on autopilot and happily not falling foul (ill) on the way.

I step into work with full realisation/knowledge that The Girl won’t be in today but the consultant will be.  With this I brace myself for a rude awakening to the week.

From here I soldier through with no urgency when perhaps there should really be some.  Eventually the consultant turns up and things turns cool and icy as I keep my head down and try to prepare myself for the latest line of inquisition.

Today I send out an email to my friend in Holland Park with view to meeting up later this week.  For a change she quickly responds and soon we are on for a date on Friday.

Before I really know it lunch arrives and despite still feeling delicate from the weekend I order penne with chicken in the hope that something stodgy and solid will settle down my stomach.  Upon collecting the dish immediately I complain to not feeling very well but all the same I promptly proceed to polish it off.  Is this what they mean by eyes being bigger than your belly?

Thankfully in early afternoon the consultant shoots off which equates to something of a sigh of relief for me.  From here I sail out the remainder of the afternoon doing work at my own pace until home time.

On cue after a tube ride across town I board the 6.20PM Norwich train for the first time this week and I find myself unfortunately sat next to a plate crowder who not only wants all of the arm rest but also wishes to move his newspaper holding elbow into my personal space, lodging it into my side flab.  The levels of contempt are high on this one.  He then proceeds to listen to metal on his iPhone (not cracked) at a loud level.  At one point I spot the artwork for Burn My Eyes in his selection which says so much (negative) about his personality.  From here he then begins playing a game of snooker on his iPhone.  This is a grown man?

By the time I get home I am unexpectedly exhausted.  With the best intentions I try to write but after scoffing an entire tub of houmous (because if nothing else it is stinking up my fridge) I find myself watching new episodes of 30 Rock and Kids In The Hall.

Panorama tonight features a story about a new bill aimed at stomping out illegal downloading by curtailing service speeds offered by providers.  It is a real meeting of the minds as the always positive Jo Whiley does her investigative journalist bit (impression) unsurprisingly sitting on the fence and not actually condemning anyone featured on the documentary while also being blinded by the science she is being shown.  This supposedly is a key figure in/of the music industry.  Ultimately it is a true hovel of arseholes but none worse than that money grubbing prick from Scouting For Girls who doesn’t appear to grasp the concept that not all bands have record deals and that he is in quite the privileged position off the back of not the largest degree of talent.  He is quite adamant that the illegal downloaders are 100% wrong (evil) when really if anyone gets caught illegally downloading a Scouting For Girls song they are more idiotic than illegal.

From here I soon find myself heading to bed where I begin watching the Howard Zinn documentary again before unfortunately falling asleep early on.