Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Wednesday 15 July 2009

A lesson has to be learned that it is not smart to drink fizzy caffeine drinks at night before going to be – especially when it is the cheap stuff as Sainburys Bolt.

Today is Dad’s birthday and before leaving home this morning I need/have to wrap up his presents/gifts. This is a royal ache because doing absolutely anything in the morning to divert my routine (even going to the toilet) will tend to see me leaving the flat late.

As I walk to the train this morning I see dog shit on the pavement – looks like the crazy Alsatian lady has been here.

I do not get “my seat” on the train this morning; instead the pretty Wookiee lady gets it instead. Why does she always scowl at me? If I sat in the seat near her then it would just be too obvious, so instead I risk the wrath from the Ric Flair lookalike who is super sensitive to iPod volume.

Before leaving Colchester the train sits in the station for an extended period and already it is plainly obvious that it will be agonisingly later than usual when we eventually get to Liverpool Street in an hour’s time.

Seating wise I find myself cornered today, strange people on this train all around me.

At Witham the middle aged divorcee sisters board the train chatting frenetically. The ginger one with heavy jowls suddenly appears to be sparkling and smiling – she is plainly currently getting/being dicked by somebody she probably met on the internet.

Later as the train stops at Shenfield the scary Andy Warhol crossed with Barry Humphries crossed with Skeletor guy boards still reading his Harry Potter seemingly as some kind of tool to entice minors.

The train pulls into Liverpool Street at the now irregular time of 8.04, painful as it is to a person with such OCD as me.

While standing at/on the Liverpool Street tube platform I think I see B but it turns out to not be her. I’m not really sure why I thought it might be her here today, there is nothing in the world to suggest she would be around here at this time.

As I board the Liverpool Street tube to Baker Street some fat old foreign momma seems determined to cut in front of me to board the train. Nonchalantly I bounce off the woman’s airbag tits to remind her of her place and hopefully twig some form of manners in/from her. At best she is a senile old fuck, at worst a mongrel Rose West.

Sometimes I feel like I live in an alternative universe, I don’t understand people and I don’t fully understand what the accepted conventions and machinations of the popular morals are.

Today I wonder if I have Asperger’s Syndrome.

It is a middling day. I get a lot accomplished but I always feel that there is something left to do. I spend the morning sorting out the weekly wages schedules just before being shown a new set of schedules and a macro to deal with them. Some people just have fucked timing.

For lunch I have penne and merguez sausage, a sure-fire sign that I am feeling sorry for myself and not conscious of the weight it may add.

In the afternoon it rains causing worry considering I have not come to London equipped to deal with this weather.

Ultimately I peter out in the afternoon.

The day ends with The Girl firing big words at us. Perhaps she should finish learning the small ones first though, not least after she queried the term “overfamiliar” when I used it the other day. Perhaps I should remind her that she doesn’t know what Hiroshima was also.

After getting let out slightly early I end up catching the 6.08 train to Clacton. I fall asleep on the train and when it stops at Chelmsford and I wake up the bald guy sat opposite is staring at me angrily – what did I do?

Later the train stops at Kelvedon but I think it is Witham and suddenly the fear kicks in. Disorientation is complete.

Once back in Colchester I pop around the olds’ at Balkerne Heights and do the birthday thing with the old man. I think dad is genuinely surprised with his gifts, it would appear to be more than he was expecting.

Dad picks up on my Asperger’s syndrome comment I made on Twitter/Facebook. He tells me that he doesn’t think I have Asperger’s syndrome and that in fact I am just ignorant.

Eventually I head home around 9PM. It is the most blazing and amazing evening, truly gorgeous and life affirming. Above me tonight the skies are genuinely breathtaking.

When I step through the door my Revelation X book has arrived from the Church Of The Subgenius. I had forgotten ordering this. It’s a pretty funny book, I can buy into this religion.

Beyond this tonight I fall asleep very quickly ending the day in a hurry.

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