Thursday 15 April 2010

Thursday 15 April 2010

Tired again.

On GMTV this morning they feature a man that has lost 25 stone and is now running the London Marathon in a few weeks.  This is not news!  However this does prove some kind of precursor to my day as just half an hour later I appear to be sitting next to his (before) Asian twin on the train.

Just before leaving the flat I find myself having some kind of strange Bella flashback and thinking of the Friday night, which culminated in her aunt’s front room and me telling her that we could not see each other again.  I wish I knew what was going through her head at that time.  That was one mystery I never did around to solving.  As to why I am having these thoughts at this time I can only link it into the longing suite and my current concerns that are festering more and more by the day.

I have another banana breakfast this morning, almost retching on them in the process.  This fucking fruit lark resembles more junk food than any fast food.  Is this the healthy eating option because it makes you shit your weight off?

From here I drag myself to the station and off to London and work.  Today I find myself having one of those mornings where/when I look around at the other extras and begin to wonder if I am seeing myself in twenty or twenty five years time.  Is a quarter of a century of commuting really what lies ahead of me?

So yeah, as I said above today I board the train and wind up sat next to a bovine brown man who at least makes me look relatively normal sized in the process.  The whole country is getting bigger though, it’s the next step in genetics and evolution for the developed world.  I can’t lose weight, there is just not a healthy lifestyle or plan in place for me.  If I am going to have to dedicate two thirds of my waking life to work and travel there is no way I am going to be able to crowbar anything so laborious into my schedule.  God hates me.

Why is Twitter over capacity at 7.05AM?

At Witham some guy in a red England football shirt sits opposite me.  This is nerd patriotism ahoy.  He looks like Scooter from the Muppet Show.

Again today the Paul Sturrock gang inhabit their corner of the train and talk the whole journey.  I wonder what they do?  Where they go?

Today the Fading Blonde from Chelmsford sits in my row.  She doesn’t speak to her friend this morning suggesting trouble in their world, some kind of femme conflict.  Or monthly visit.

Distracted and engrossed I manage to ignore the train stopping at Ingatestone and Shenfield meaning the journey feels shorter and lessened.  It would be good if it was like this everyday.

As we get off the train at Liverpool Street I allow the Fading Blonde to exit in front of me which prompts her to thank me.  Seems she might be nice after all.

Upon arrival into London my knee goes.  Suddenly I feel like I am walking on rubber band joints as I begin to fear the possibility of it going from beneath me at any moment.  What the fuck is happening here?

Fortunately I keep it together and it gets me across town.  Exiting at St Johns Wood I see what is probably going to be the best thing I see all day: a scraggy dog wrestling its owner by tugging violently at its lead.  Its classic stuff.  It’s all downhill from here.

This morning I find myself weighing up the option of trying out Wordpress (moving over from Blogspot).  I don’t know, Wordpress strikes me as cumbersome.  I can’t definitely see websites where it fits in with the template (such as with Diskant) but I’m not convinced that it’s for me.  It would appear that I already have a couple of Wordpress blogs set up but they don’t look good.

The big news of the day is the volcano in Iceland and the subsequent clouds of dust now grounding planes/flights all across Europe.  First it is Scotland cancelling flights which sees our Glasgow lawyer stranded in London.  Soon afterwards Racton texts me from Cannes saying that his flight is now cancelled as disruption spreads down the country to cancelling flights to and from English airports.  The early word from his end is that he maybe looking at being stranded in France for four days.

Things take a dip as a supplier called Independent Safes begins shouting at me down the phone for not paying invoices that we have not received.  He expects me to call him back to confirm things that I cannot promise.  I just shrug in response.  Professionally this is wrong of me but by entering into our miniscule negotiation by shouting at me I have already switched off to him by this point.  Now when Independent Safes receives payment it will take even longer.  At some point one of us will need to begin actually behaving professionally.  In a way this helps me snap out of my funk although I do find calling him back to be deeply unpleasant in the most unnecessary fashion.

As lunch arrives I find myself in full swing.  Dinner actually cuts into my action.  With eating out tonight in mind I go for the chargrilled salmon with new potatoes and Hollandaise sauce option.  Today the slab of salmon is huge (a double helping), much to the chagrin of the angry boss.

My afternoon continues the morning’s momentum until my boss calls me in to help him out with getting a refund from Easyjet for our Scottish lawyer’s flight.

Luckily I get back into the groove of thing as I put in my best day of the week, perhaps producing as much work as the previous three days combined.

At 5.30PM I leave the restaurant with a skip in my step.  When I board the tube at St Johns Wood I spot Charles Shaar Murray and Anna Chen on the carriage.  I love my low level celebrity spots.

I switch to the Central Line at Bond Street and soon I am emerging at Oxford Circus and waiting for people on Argyll Street.  Eventually Mark turns up just as people watching begins to get good.  He looks shattered arriving off the back of just finishing one project only to move straight onto two more.  Such is life.

Not long after he turns up Sharpy arrives and we have a gang.  We head towards Soho where we wind up in the Old Coffee House on Beak Street.  I have the fondest memories of this place having seen Pappy’s Fun Club do so many great sets here.

Tonight conversation flows as we have a great session which has been a long time coming.  Generally all sounds busy but well in our respective lives.  Chat comes with a degree of weariness but with some success also.

Early on I find myself tearing into Cemetery Junction as I expound my disappointment after seeing it last night.  Everyone is an expert on Ricky Gervais it would seem.  From here we wind up talking about football (mainly playing) as the other two are currently active in various kickabouts and suddenly they make it sound as if they were gifted prospects at school.  Naturally talk reverts back to school days, an area that always appears to get indulged in when grammar school kids get together.  With my own school experience not being the greatest I begin to drink quicker and begin to glaze over.

With three pints behind us we head to the Golden Day restaurant on Shaftesbury Avenue, which boasts apparently the spiciest Chinese food in London.  Music to my ears.

Upon arrival the restaurant is verging on heaving but after a short wait they manage to squeeze us into a booth by the window sat opposite the Curzon as our view of outside (Soho and Shaftesbury Avenue) takes on Edward Hopper proportions with my beer goggles.

By this point I am quite sufficiently drunk and continuing to glaze over, eager to cease wetting my beak and proceed to chow down.

The food turns out to be very good, living up to its boast with abundance.  Despite being drunk (and getting drunker) my chopstick prowess is silently impressive.  Then halfway through the mean I discover that I am using them the wrong way round John Bonham style.  This is the secret.

Eventually we get done with our mouths burning and on fire.  Hours from now we will most definitely be regretting this but for now it is an exhilarating eating experience.

From here we head up to Tottenham Court Road through Soho on a surprisingly unswinging Thursday night.  This is the credit crunch.  Swiftly we head across town and soon I am on the 11.18PM train home to Colchester.  Tonight it is a long and arduous journey during which a couple of times I pass out.  One day they will rob me.

Once home the world is still subtly spinning as I take precautions with green tea and headache pills.  From here I watch a couple of episodes of How To Make It In America before passing out.  Again.