Sunday, January 10, 2010


Sunday 10 January 2010

Dream: I am back working at Baker Street and it is the day of the Christmas party.  In the afternoon things take on an interesting tone as we all get presented with reports detailing our online activity identifying all the non-work related websites we have visited during work time and how frequently we have done so.  Elsewhere in the report are a number categories that have been flagged for questioning including blogging activities and any hinted pornography site preferences.  We are then subjected to individual interviews cum appraisal ahead of what is supposed to be the most social night of the evening.  In the end I seem to get let off quite easily in the light of other people in the office taking far bigger liberties with their internet usage, so once again with regards this firm I slope off into the background and disappear.  Onto the Christmas party and it is as stagnant as one would expect or imagine, held in a flouncy and surprisingly expensive venue but invariably I find myself outside sought refuge away from people I do not necessarily enjoy the company of.

Waking up it is back into another snow covered day.  The time I emerge is just after 8AM and thankfully the day does not feel as chilly as yesterday initially.  I was half expecting to be awakened by my neighbour in similar fashion as last week but thankfully that does not occur.

I decide to begin the day by finishing off watching The Invention Of Lying.  Once more viewing of this movie (and anything with Ricky Gervais in) is only tainted by thoughts and imaginations of my American friend giving her moronic opinion on it while the thumbsucker from Catford overanalyses the comedy of the piece, squeezing absolutely any inch or element of fun from it.

In the end The Invention Of Lying is hard work.  There are plenty of holes in it but also fortunately lashings of pathos.  Other than Gervais and Jennifer Garner very few characters are given the time or opportunity to develop their characters but ultimately it is sweet, has yucks and a happy ending.  Actually to have watched the movie with a doubting Flanders such as Mindy could have been fun.

Beyond this I enter proper into the day soughting some kind of relief for the dulling headache that accompanies my morning.  This of course not helped in the least by watching this week’s episode of The Big Questions which provides more stupidity on a stick and yet it also remains compulsive viewing.  Perhaps my self esteem is so low that I have to watch the people on this programme in order to get a boost and feel superior.

Once up and running I begin writing and genuinely begin to make progress.  I then receive a couple of emails from dad who sounds worried about me just because I haven’t been in touch this weekend.  All is well at this end; I hope it is at their end.  In the end I tell him “all is good” and that I’ll be over this afternoon, as per routine.  I can’t escape the routine.

With snow still in abundance at 1PM I look into leaving, even considering walking into town instead of driving to my parents.  In the end though my Focus doesn’t even haven any frost on its screen to I decide to drive to their place.

Upon arrival at Balkerne Heights parking proves precarious as I slide all over the shop as I attempt to reverse into a parking space.  Don’t look like their managing agents have chipped in or stumped up for any grit or salt.

When I pop into my parents’ it feels a bit like stepping into a morgue.  The dog is happy to see me though which ultimately makes all worthwhile.  I wish I had kids.

Eventually I head into town, slipping on the way.  Town is quiet today and once more I do not see or recognise anybody I know which is really sad as I would love to be having drinks with somebody at this time.

While browsing in HMV they play The Greatest by Cat Power over the stereo and in this context it sadly sounds horrible and cheesy.  Are the people in this store really Chan’s new audience?

In the end I buy my magazines from WH Smith before finding a couple of cool books in each of Colchester’s two Waterstones.  Whenever you head from browsing in one shop to browse in the other situated 30 seconds away you can’t help but wonder why there are two so close to each other.  Finally I finish off in town by getting a Starbucks and heading back to the olds.

Returning to the parents we have the routine Sunday dinner together before Leicester v Ipswich begins on Sky.  In the game Ipswich scores after about 28 seconds before inevitably drawing 1-1 at the end.

Today I hang around the parents place as part of my routine even though I have better things to be doing at home.  Worse still is when I hear cars slipping and skidding outside and my parents (particularly mother) drum fear into my mind about driving home.  When the time finally comes to head home it is all fine despite the generated minor panic from/of the older generation at hand.

Back home on a Sunday evening I do the bath thing in hope of not thinking about the coming working week too much.  Afterwards I do some writing prior to falling asleep watching Forrest Gump, Forrest Gump being that film that Jackie from Christmas Eve once blew me out on for a date.  I can’t help but think her actions have soured my impression and memories of this movie.  Box of chocolates indeed.

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