Wednesday, September 15, 2004

August 12 (Thursday): Grounded For Life. I wake up with a headache again! Another semi eventless day at work. With Acmex out of the way, Iran gives me the option of picking up Acme Industrial, an opportunity which I jump at. Tonight is another cricket practise but as per usual its not looking likely that I will be able to attend from the beginning, so I have to fob people off by telling them that I am going to the doctors, which is true (kind of).

When the day is done and I get home, I find my landline is beeping and that I have a message left on 1571. I listen in and it is a very ill sounding Iris cancelling/postponing tonight's session and it really feels like a let off.

With the session out of the way, I am freed up to go and join the others in Abberton at the cricket practise. When I arrive, there is: Melchard, Jack, his son Ken, Brian and Sandip. I don't really bother with bowling but I am really anxious about getting some batting practise in. Unfortunately there are no stumps put out for us so when I finally get my turn at bat, it is hard to get a good practise on. And add to this that tonight I am just plain atrocious. To make things worse, Melchard now seems intent on turning our pair of poor performances into a personal competition, almost offering money between who does the better out of us. Grief.

Practise ends and I feel more worried now than I did beforehand, prospects for Sunday do not look too good. We do the usual ritual of popping into the Swan for a drink but Jack soon flits off with Ken to town for something to eat leaving us unfuns behind.

When I get in I check my phone and Mark is back from Sheffield and back in Colchester. Excellent, best news all day.

I get home and there is nothing on telly, just Little Britain. I go to bed.

np: L7 - Pretend We're Dead (live Maneater bootleg 1992)


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