Monday, September 27, 2004

August 24 (Tuesday): 35 Hours. This morning I stroll into work a negative creep, this place really isn't a very good place to be at the moment. Stevo hasn't turned up, it seems his shoulder injury is after all pretty serious and I guess today he is rested up and maybe at a doctor or hospital getting it mended. I text him asking how is he doing and that it is “boring at work� without him. As soon as the text is sent, he turns up for work. How nuts is that?

Today the whole knock on effect of failing my exams hits home as I calculate how much I am going to have to pay for my retake courses and really I should be retaking the whole Advanced Tax course in its entirety again. I count up my courses and they come to around £900, which no stretch of the imagination can I afford. I really have to think this choice through but most likely I will have to plump/compromise at only the retake/revision courses which will still cost me over £500. Fucking hell, I could almost get a laptop for that money or at least an iPod and change. Life sucks.

At lunchtime we go to Edwards and I had forgotten just how good their food is. Stevo is comical, barely able to use his busted arm, he reminds me of Alex in A Clockwork Orange right at the end. And not least when Steve is spilling food down himself (ha ha). Needless to say, I don't help him out.

Today I am so busy at work and it is mostly brought on by the impending Acme Careforce audit which I now have the arseholes over due to my little clash with Melchard on Friday, which in earnest now I probably doubt isn't even crossing his mind. In the afternoon I find myself being hassled over Acmex, having the job bounced back to me to do some busy work on it such as minor adjustments, signing off and crossing Ts and dotting Is. This really is one day where I do not to be wasting my time. And the more hassle arrives in the form of grief with regards to clearing the Chernobyl basement. Lugging fucking bin bags out of the basement is grunt work and not what I am employed to do. As a result I miss two phonecalls from home in the process. Now I am officially royally fucking pissed off.

I pop over the road to do some Viztopia work and just fucking flip, accidentally spilling some water on the flat screen monitor of the computer. A couple of neon lines appear on its screen, whoops I've fucked it. I get my bit done as soon as possible and run away from the broken monitor, the monitor that I have just broken. Whoops. Come 5.40pm, I have failed to get my work/jobs done for Randy Pan but I have to make moves home anyway.

The day is pretty much summed up by the fact that just as I set off home, it begins to rain and this morning I left my coat at home. All in all, it makes me late leaving my flat for mum and dad's.

As I drive/tear down the A120, Sara phones me on my cellphone. I don’t think she is pissed but she is really pissed off. Seems her ex-Jay Jay has made one of those niggly comments that a person can make once they have got into someone’s head. We talk for the entirety of my drive home (hands free folks) and to be honest I really don’t want to hear it. I should probably feel honoured/privileged that she has come to me with her problems but right now a friend in need is a pain in the arse.

I get home and all is down. My exam results, Dad's employers, the six grand tax credit looming over everyone's head. I eat shitloads of their food, it appears that I am currently comfort eating. I watch Chelsea v Crystal Palace on Sky with dad and wind up falling asleep, I am so tired. I have success in getting the final few viruses wiped off their PC.

I remain around their house to watch Sopranos season 5 episode 3 while they go to bed. From within his bedroom I can hear dad coughing, he doesn’t sound very well. Once the episode is over, I drive home and it has been a late night.

np: The Strokes - Reptilia


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