Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Last night was a weird one as I wound up hanging around Notting Hill for an hour to no avail as the cinema sold out on Borat without me being able to grab a ticket. And this after I buy 6 CDs in Music And Record Exchange for £10, I suspect the people working in the shop were rightly giggling at me as I left the shop with my Bobby Conn, Early Man, Tracy & The Plastics, Cobra Verde, A.R.E. Weapons and Kim Fowley CDs. To compound things, when I catch the 7.30 Norwich train home, it runs at only a snails pace for most of the journey. My delayed train ride home was made bearable though when randomly on my iPod the MP3 of When Ricky Met Larry came on and I listened to that, almost giggling out loud on the train (“you car wash cunt”). I then proceeded to watch as the gentleman sat in front of me with short hair was eating an apple and you could explicitly see a huge vein in his head throbbing while he moved his jaw to chew. And then to my right some lairy girl was shouting down the phone at her boyfriend (she may have had a tipple during a work lunch). Fitting the bill, there was a fucking great crack across the screen on her phone, I imagined her getting into some lairy girl fight during a bout of binge drinking one Friday night out, as is the way in Essex. She got off at Chelmsford, figures.

When I finally arrived home, via a stop off at Asda and 5 donuts for 12p in the reduced section, feeling murky I felt the necessity to bath. Eventually after putting home issues in order, by the time I actually jumped in the bath I proceeded to fall asleep in the bath! And by that I mean proper slumberland. This is a true first for me and it was such a weird feeling/experience waking up, one not entirely pleasant.

AM: another morning, another awakening with a thud. After wasting those two days off work last month I am now afraid to take any more time off work BUT I need to do something other than hop on a train for two hours every morning fast! And this morning’s ride is fairly shitty as just past Marks Tey the train shuds to a couple of halts and when we arrive in Witham it is obvious we are going to have to change trains. The eventual happens and I wind up having to stand the remainder of the journey to Liverpool Street. I watch as all the sat passengers stare at me like the douche bag that I am but I learn/try not to be gauche (my new word of the past few days). Unfortunately I do find myself perving slightly over a really pretty Asian girl, is catching glimpses perving? I sure feels that way today. And then I realise I am stood right next to stone cold Asian lady that just has IT in the manner one look from her just makes me feel like dirt (ha ha). These are really hard times to be feeling like a fool. Fortunately however the poor bugger (a man well into his fifties and nearing his sixties) steals the show when he begins to fall asleep whilst standing up reading a book. I watch as gradually his head drops and the book slips and when it eventually falls to the floor I can’t help but laugh at….I mean, with him. As a privilege of standing the majority of the journey, I get the be the person that presses the button that opens the door. By this point the stone cold Asian (who admittedly partially reminds me of Azmei) with her perfect hair and DG glasses is stood opposite me looking but not looking. I hope I looked impressive when I pressed the train door button, I sure felt cool and impressive.

By the time I reach the tube (past 8.30) the rush hour is in full flow chaos and suddenly I am quickly reminded of just why I arrive in town as early as I do each morning. After waiting and watching five trains come and go without any prospect of boarding them, I eventually squeeze on the next, barely getting in/on the carriage. I half expect the doors to chop off my head as they close but I’m ok, I just have the stroppy mare of a woman behind me, prodding me.

I arrive at work thirty minutes later than usual but fifteen minutes before I have to begin work. At this point it is very evident that for a second day running, I appear to be suffering from a sense of humour bypass. I receive a few emails from friends but my concentration is occupied by another busy day at work and my spider sense working overtime, tingling as I suspect something is up in the management upper echelon. My concerns/worries do not pan out to anything although I do sense a rather dubious advertisement being placed in the industry weekly.

PM: by the time lunchtime arrives, I have achieved very very little in comparison to yesterday, the sum total amounting to little more than a whinge and a moan in the form of a Myspace questionnaire (the last refuge of a scoundrel). For lunch I do the houmous and pitta gorge thing, today I just want something cheap and substantial regardless of whether it goes straight to my moobs (as this combination always does).

The remainder of the afternoon flies past uneventfully. Hints of my sense of humour returning are signalled and my workrate/output ups significantly/substantially. However as a result of all this, another headache hits me as I slowly remember my worries and woes.

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