Tuesday 9 March 2010

Tuesday 9 March 2010

Today comes with a rude awakening.  Last night was a late one (or early one depending on how pedantic a person is being).  Operation into such hours really is ill advised on/for a school night.

As I switch on my TV the reception for ITV is distorted and crackled meaning no GMTV for me this morning.  As a result of this I am swift in getting ready to go.

When I get to the car park this morning I see the greatest thing: a car that has made its own parking ticket written out on a yellow post-it note.  I really hope it fools the Nazi parking attendant (the N in NCP does stand for Nazi, right?)  That or he gets clamped then towed.  I just can’t decide.

I have to admit that when I walk through the car park towards the station this morning I am looking out for the car I had my little thing with last night.  Realistically though I am not going to recognise that fucker, it all happened so fast.  Perhaps I should have chased and followed him after all.

As I enter the station I do however spot and recognise Disney Face looking as grumpy and hard work as ever.  I wonder what she is like really.

This morning would be a great day to have a snooze on the train but it is just not on the cards as I get a seat annoyingly situated on the aisle.  This ain’t any good.

Eventually when I get to work my day is a slow one.  With no real jobs at task to sink my teeth into I endeavour to dot Is and cross Ts on the January accounts.  The first thing I however do as soon as I get into work is set about uploading Day 99 of the Facebook Cull.  It goes up and suddenly things begin to look penultimate.

For lunch today I have penne with chicken undaunted by the amount of carbs that comes attached with the dish.  To liven/spice things up I cover it with tomato ketchup, which accentuates the Arribatto sauce in the most philistine of manners.

In the end the afternoon pans out much in the same fashion as the morning.

Eventually 5.30PM arrives and while I tease The Girl about diverting the phones the consultant phones with a question and request.  Did he do this on purpose just to upset me?

After a quick email I swiftly exit work and head over to Liverpool Street and home.  When I get there and board the 6.20PM Norwich train it is to the sick discovery that there are no seats left meaning that I have to stand all the way home back to Colchester.

For the journey home I listen to a podcast interview with Douglas Coupland who is being quizzed about Generation A and Generation X and how they compare.  He almost sounds nostalgic for the naivety of his original novel (as it feels now considering the information overload we are being subjected to in this modern world).  I still like to buy into the Generation X concept wholesale, to think the fact that my generation is struggling is not due to my peers being lazy or hopeless it is just down to the climate and environment we have been born into.  There was a recklessness and lack of responsibility that came from being part of Generation X, something the next generation does not appear to have tapped into.

When I return to Colchester as I get into my car tonight Zane Lowe is playing “Cut Your Hair” by Pavement on his show and it truly towers over anything else he ever plays, sounding as if it were from a different planet in comparison.  It is genuinely refreshing to hear this on the radio again and have it blow my socks off for the Nth time.

On the way home I pop around my parents’ place.  Initially the dog appears happy to see me but soon he resorts to being offish with me.  Much like lots of people in my life.

While there I watch the first half of the Arsenal v Porto game and quickly Bendtner scores a couple of goals making the halftime score 2-0 to the has beens.

As I step through the entrance door to our block/building tonight I find myself hit by a smell resembling an ashtray.  Walking up the stairs I suddenly spot the bike has returned to our landing and now there are two rubbish bags waiting to be taken to the bins which are causing the stink.  How fucking lazy is this cunt that she cannot be bothered to make the two minute walk to the bins.  It just fucking stinks.  Is this girl doing these things on purpose to annoy and upset me?

Unsurprisingly from here I step into my flat pissed off to fuck.  To coincide with this mood I have the last two Facebook Cull entries to do which now will probably take on something of a more prickly air.

Childishly I put on my loud My Bloody Valentine ICA return gig bootleg while procrastinating away from the culls by playing FIFA 10 on my DS.

Eventually I finish off the entries (it would appear that I actually did most of Day 99 yesterday).  Mission accomplished.  From here I go online and upload the penultimate entry before putting on the Gonzo documentary DVD where unfortunately I find myself falling asleep during the trailer for Sicko.  Now that’s tiredness.