August 23 (Results Monday): On Golden Jason. Results day. I should be nerve wracked but really I'm not. It is a pissy shitty morning and I walk in wearing my big coat (my “Mormon� coat) over my suit and I look absolutely huge. Bad news. I can’t believe this weather, I remember we had some summer at some point this year.

Stevo comes in strapped up and looks really terrible, really tender and totally/thoroughly beaten up. When he spoke to me on the phone yesterday I never imagined he would be this bad. I feel pretty bad for the poor sod. He doesn’t stay in the office too long, he has to go to Broomfield hospital to get his shoulder seen to.

As the day carries on I am a really mixed bag, sometimes nervous, sometimes not. I am however for sure under the cosh at work, very very busy at work, late last week Randy Pan gave me three jobs at the same time, which added to the two I have from Melchard and the impending Acme Careforce debacle coming later this week, I am pretty much working solid under the threat/pressure that it is the end of the month. This is absurd, all the times I don't have enough work suddenly I am more snowed under than ever.

I spend all morning checking my AOL email on my phone for my results. No dice.

At lunchtime I wander into town with Louise, the pair of us getting nervous fast. In Culver Square a Costa coffee house has now opened up, Colchester is finally one step closer to get its own Starbucks.

In the afternoon I go to a pikey Irish client called Acme Brickwork with Randy Pan to arrange doing their books. Apparently there has been a falling out with their bookkeeper and she has gone and left it all in a big mess. In replacement for her, some young lad (vaguely related to her) has taken over the job and, not his fault, he does not appear to have the first idea of what/how to do. As I said, it is in one big mess. While Randy Pan bullshits his way through it and I just watch in horror at all the work I can see ahead of me, my phone beeps. When I finally get chance to get my phone, it is Phoebe and she has failed Advanced Tax, coming close with a score of 46%. That's a nightmare, the message reads: “Hi how r u? Am not gd, fail! 42! Kinda wish they lost this one instead! Haha.. Hope urs r gd! Will do retake course! Oh well, never mind. Got ta work! C ya�. This is very bad, on the revision course for Tax, Phoebe has a hell of a lot more on the ball than me, so things suddenly look a little bleak.

When I get back to the office, I still have not got my results. It turns out that Sandip has gone and got 49% in his finals retake. Oh my god, so close, that must be devastating to him. To get away from the bad vibes, I go over the road to the other office to see if Louise has had her results yet. She hasn’t. I check my phone yet another time and the email has arrived. My heart palpitates and I am almost shaking as I open the email. They are both fails, 45% in Advanced Audit and a frightening 23% in Advanced Tax! I knew I was struggling at that subject but I didn’t realise I was getting it so wrong. Oh dear, my plans are scuppered and now my career progression has had at least another six months added to it. This takes the mental equivalent toll of driving a car into a wall at 60mph, guess that that crash test dummy is. I feel like a loser as I text my results to Phoebe who replies “Oh dont worry! Is the stupid examiner fault! Shouldnt throw in the zoo ques! N its very sweet of u to fail just so we can take it again together! Haha..�.

I spend the remainder of the afternoon with my head down, devastated and concerned. I say pretty much nothing, there is nothing to be said. As the dust settles, a little later Louise comes over with her results and they are fantastic, in the seventies, the best being a 79% in Law. Bravo. At some point Drew states “tonight you either get your books out or you get pissed up�. Wanker.

When 5pm comes around, I’m ready to work late but Sandip actually suggests that we go to the pub! For some reason I jump to the opportunity and we go to the Hogshead to sit in the beer garden and drink Stella. This is so weird, going to the pub with Sandip/Sunny! Anyways, we shoot the shit and he is really down, almost contemplating jacking his studies. It is hard to discuss work and career with him because I know how much he earns and it equates to the firm taking the piss out of him. Whatever, we dig into Stellas and I really get into it and soon manage to cheer up and forget about my exam results/failures. When I go top off at the bar, still suited up, I get female attention and I like it. They commiserate with me over my exam failure and actually tell me “the best accountants fail first time�. I thought that old cliché was for driving tests. Verbally I hold my own and this is a lot more fun than talking to that downer Sandip (ho ho). I’m not so fond of the barfly though, telling me that I am overdressed and that I should be in Roberto’s, who is asking how many people (clients) I have “fucked over today�. I return to the comfort/shelter of Sunny.

By 6.30, it is times to make moves. By now, three Stellas in, I have a real good beer buzz on and after calling him up, I head to Mark’s for some more fun times. After the bout of drizzling earlier today, this is the most beautiful evening. When I turn up on Mark’s doorstep, I feel pretty wrong, I actually find myself pretending to not to be drunk. Not good. After musing over what to do, we walk to my place with view to getting my Old School DVD and driving (driving!) to Asda to get some dinner. We do the half hour walk, get to my flat and when we get/go inside, Mark’s reactions (gut) is “oh my good!�. I steer us out of there immediately and handle the difficulty of driving to Asda.

Back at Mark’s he cooks us dinner as we listen to Zane Lowe on the radio. This is the night Mark makes homemade beef burgers. They taste ace but take about 90 minutes to prepare, as opposed to the 90 seconds it takes Mickey D’s to prepare theirs. You do the math. He makes me give him £2, McDonalds charge 99p.

Eventually we settle to watching Old School and tonight I really don’t enjoy it much, it just doesn’t seem funny and even bores me. What’s that about? I love Will Ferrell and this is HIS moment in time. Mark however surprisingly seems to enjoy it, laughing loads. Wow. Before the end however I fall asleep sitting up on his sofa prompting him to shout at me! I take my cue and leave.

When I get in, Sopranos is on TV and it is the second episode of series five. I fall asleep within moments of starting to watch it. We I re-awaken around midnight I begin watching my moody Pete And Pete DVDs and they send me asleep almost immediately also. What is it about my favourite films and TV shows sending me to sleep?

np: Goldie Lookin Chain - You Knows I Loves You