June 16 (Wednesday): Today is Mark’s birthday. Again I wake up early but feeling good. Good vibes, Good Friends (the one where Joey has got no health insurance). I listen to Douglas Coupland I have downloaded over night over the internet and it is fine, just like old times. With a spring in my step I get ready for work and find I am set much earlier than is required (probably due to my current hygiene boycott). I check my phone and Sarah sent a text message just before midnight last night, I cringe. I nearly ruin my PC looking at porn, a program decides to attach itself to my internet connection and attempt to charge me at premium rate (worryingly right now I may be on premium rate although I have performed many measures/steps to ensure I am not). I reboot and MSN comes on and Phoebe is online. I check in and it is fantastic and I think the feelings are likewise as her screenname changes from “Just Sad!� to “Papa Lima� (whatever that means). It later changes to “AARGH...damn computer� but that’s beside the point. We discuss the Edward Hopper exhibition at the Tate and she says “I guess you will have to show me what you mean when we go�, exactly what I’ve always wanted to hear. Sadly I have to chip to work and leave it but things stand so fine. I walk with real gusto and today on Radio One Moyles is on, taking the piss out of Aled for having a Lego robot.

It’s another pathetically hot day in Chernobyl. I spend most of the morning over the road and it is so much more better, were I still there I suspect I might still have a career. I’ve started hanging out more with Louise at work now. I text Mark happy birthday, wondering if I can blag myself into any celebrations somewhere (ho ho).

For lunch I head to town with Louise and we get McDonalds. I text Phoebe to tell her I’m having her favourite (well, one of them). Back in the office Who makes comment “that’s not Atkins� and I just say something stupid back but at least it is assertive (ho ho). My phone beeps and it is Sarah asking how I am. Curtly I reply “I’m fine�. She later texts again, asking me if I “want to go for a drink Monday�. I guess I’m not making myself clear. Luckily I have an escape clause, it is England v Croatia Monday, I half invite her to that but she doesn’t seem keen.

The afternoon is unendurable and I get fucking nothing done in the office, the green house climate is just too much. I look around Chernobyl and hold my head in my hands, what a fucking joke. There is no fire escape and no ventilation, not even a decent window to open. I keep staggering over the road for a breather. I begin to consider calling health and safety somewhere to improve conditions. As the bag lady points out, the only cool place in the office is the toilet. It is one big fucking toilet.

Just before leaving work I get a back twang, which is worrying because to date I haven’t had any problems with my back (unlike most people I know). I’m getting old.

Five o’clock does not come soon enough and I tear home to see Spain v Greece. It’s a bit of another schnorer, Spain look ok and the better team but Greece slug it out and scrape a draw they don’t really deserve. All in all it is a pretty eventless game, to which I can barely remember the goals (Spain’s was from sloppy defensive errors and Greece’s was a good move, if mis-hit), just the many opportunities Spain had to snatch a winner at the end. That and the wanker of a coach the Greeks have. Passion my arse, poser more like.

Today I have received my first itemised O2 phone bill (charge to me £2.50, ka-ching!). My bills have been double the expected and yet I barely use the phone for calls. Worryingly there are several hundred one second calls on my bill all at a charge of 10p each. I do not recognise these numbers, I have no idea what is happening but I am being charged for it. If a private investigator was to pick up this bill they would think I am crank calling people and hanging up on them. Honest guv, I’m not.

Between games I have so much to do but I am so shattered. I attempt to watch the remainder of my Curb Your Enthusiasm DVD but it is fucked and the screen is covered in digital crackles, and that is when I am lucky enough to get it working at all. For some reason my HBO DVD box sets all do this, you will not believe how angry/frustrated I have gotten at my Sopranos DVDs. I also email my CV to a good accountancy personnel firm, I can’t achieve what I want at my current firm given the facilities I am offered/provided.

I cook bad eggs.

Game 2 is Portugal vs the Russian Mafia. Now this is a game. Despite the empty seats to the right (what’s that about?) there is a genuine atmosphere to this one and when the Portuguese take an early lead (7 minutes), it is looking good for a thumping. Surprisingly it doesn’t arrive but this is a proper match, the keeper gets sent off and then a fan makes it onto the pitch to have a pop at an official. The second half isn’t thrilling stuff, Russia with ten men hold fairly tight. During half time my phone beeps. I am beginning to dread that noise now, every time it happens I shudder. Yes, again it is Sarah with a message more random than the last. Portugal hit the post in the 63rd minute and all is forgotten in preference to excitement, Portugal begin to look good. Still, Russia frustrate them and eventually super sub Ronaldo sets up Rui Costa for the second and a very laboured 2-0 win.

Tonight is a good night, the pond life sisters return to the Big Brother house live on air and there is a John Coltrane documentary on BBC1. However that gets disrupted when Sarah hits me on MSN at 11pm.

np: Dinosaur Jr. - Whatever's Cool With Me