Monday, January 03, 2005

December 20 (Monday): Dream: this dream is a heartbreaker. After driving around the posh parts of Ipswich I wind up getting in touch/contact with Sara and she tells me that my actions have caused us to both lose. Sadly I think in the long term, this will be proved true.

I get up after limit/little sleep and outside it is freezing, the coldest day of the year and this is represented by beautiful bright blue skies that come with these temperatures.

I check my post and there is a letter from the Job Centre telling me that my case/circumstances of dismissal are being investigated and that I might have my benefits ceased/stopped as a result. I got shit canned in the worst way, summary dismissal off the back of a Gross Misconduct accusation. What the fuck circumstances do they require? Do I now need to go and torch my old office as a gesture of intent in order to gain a sufficient/satisfactory dismissal? Sleep tight.

Today I guess is the first day of the kids’ Christmas holidays, which pretty much will mean going to town will be less than pleasurable now (if not even a subtle no go zone). As a result, I don’t leave the flat today, partly due to that and partly due to sleep depravation (still) and a general air of can’t be arsed about it.

Instead I find myself, on actually a pretty sunny and pleasant looking day, watching a terrible kid’s movie called The hoping to learn about stocks, shares and e-commerce. Fucking unemployed loser. And then Muppets Take Manhattan comes on Channel Four. Yup, Muppet, that’s a pretty good description for me today. Damn you disruptive kids Christmas TV! I’m 28!

In the afternoon Acton gets me on MSN and tells me how he is going to a huge pillow fight in Trafalgar Square this evening. Sounds cool, much better than my impending pot noodle and wank (metaphorical). This all comes over as I find myself watching yet more bad movies, this time in the form of Bigfoot And The Hendersons. Richard then however tells me that they used to have a Fight Club at his old university and suddenly I am all ears to what is possibly the coolest thing I have ever in my life. And also the funniest, great someone is making me lol today.

My evening finds me in the weird position/situation of exchanging emails with Henry Rollins as he answers a Q&A for me, being a complete smart and wise arse in the process. I bet he has shitty Christmases too.

Tonight my flat is the coldest it has been all year (or at the very least this winter). Sadly my flat is equipped with the worst heater imaginable, output and input sit on the same dial and I don’t actually know which either is other than being exact opposites (probably). I turn in pretty early, like an old biddy/person/pensioner unable to afford heating in the winter. I read on in my creative writing book, it all being very earthy and suggesting some rather peculiar practises and exercises, stuff I will struggle to get with. Still, it does say some encouraging things in the process. I am quickly drifting away from the accountant midset in the name of pursuing these wild pipedreams and notions. Show me the money!

TV tonight doesn’t make up to the daytime, the only real winner being the Smoking Room (and that is only assisted by my fancying the black bird in it). I eventually turn in for some much needed and overdue sleep putting on the Death Of A Salesman DVD for a watch (for the first time in ages). It works on the sending to sleep front.

np: Bruce McCulloch - Eraserhead


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