August 26 (Thursday): The Good, The Bad And The Lucky. This morning I have to get into work pretty early in order to get my ACCA courses booked up with the BPP. Big problem here, my company does not tend to pay for retake courses and now I have to find/pay over £500. Ouch. My only option really is to take it on the chin and put the fees on a credit card, which I do, getting the form faxed off before I head off to Acme Careforce. After I get this done, Melchard sees I'm still in the office and gives me grief/flack for still being in the office. I only respond “I knowâ€? when really it should be more along the lines of "get lost". Hypocrisy is the greatest luxury.

I arrive at the client pretty jarred off but manage to get a lot done and have, in the end, a very proactive morning and lunchtime soon comes around, with lunchtime meaning my final session with the doctor. I originally intend to leave the client's at 12.30 for my session but I get toilet troubles and have a wicked shit, meaning I do not manage to leave the office in Mersea until 12.45.

Getting from Mersea to Colchester proves an utter nightmare and by the time I finally get to my session, I am at least ten minutes late. My final session is a real horror show, everything seems to have hit me at once and instead of ending things on a high/positive, I just can’t see past my current woes and what they are doing to me, it really seems that I shouldn’t really be discontinuing these sessions. All signs point to all my problems being work related. I tell her about the fuss that was made about me doing a lunchtime session this week and the good doctor just looks in disbelief going “but its your lunchtimeâ€?. Its hard, I just can’t get around the feeling of currently being bullied at work and she ties this into experiences from my youth but I kind of see it as a problem I have with authority. Whatever, the resounding opinion is that I really would benefit from changing my place of work. Of course this is all coming off the back of my exam results and their failure equating to me feeling like a failure in general. And there is the fact that I have just had a birthday which is an occasion that will generally play on my senses. We discuss my meet up with Phoebe in London at the weekend and attempt to draw positivity from that but I resign myself to just saying “I’ll only fuck that up tooâ€?. For therapeutic purposes, today really is akin to flogging a dead horse. We look to the future and look to good things. I try to convince her that I will sail this out and once I get through this little spell, all will be semi-rosey again. My problem is that I can this but not necessarily believe this. Towards the end we get onto the subject of my parents and their woes which I seem to be taking on in equal measures as them. She asks me why and my response is “because I’m still earningâ€?, arrogantly I tell people “I think they’re be on my payroll before longâ€?. I tell her about the working credit recall/refund of £6,000 hanging over their heads and the good doctor has heard of this and suddenly it sounds more real than ever to me. I don’t really find it too comforting when she tells “well, maybe they will just have to downsize their homeâ€? (or something). The session ends with my telling her and pointing out dad’s advertisement stating “no job to smallâ€? and break down in front of her and can’t stop with the waterworks. That sign just seems/appears to encapsulate their situation and really triggers something and strikes a nerve in me. For the second time in a week I find myself having to take five and compose myself before letting myself back out on the streets. The good doctor hugs me and wishes me luck, telling me to “take care of yourselfâ€?. Oh my god, what kind of state have I got myself into. This really is not how either of us would have wanted our sessions to come to an end.

I take my time returning to work and when I get there and resume, I am very quiet for the longest time, I just do not want a re-run of what just happened in my session. Eventually I come around and have some nice chats with Mah, she is turning out to be a really really nice person. Ultimately it is a quiet afternoon though and I manage to get the majority of my work done/finished.

On the way home, I pop into Asda and buy Scooby Doo 2 on DVD to at least make me smile, if not cheer me up. Is this a sign of regression? Anyways, not long after I begin watching it, dad hits me on MSN. I say "hi" and talk to him for a bit when really I could do without any doom and gloom this evening. In the end our chat is only fleeting.

Scooby Doo 2 ends and ultimately it is only so so (not sure what I was expecting really). The bird from ER does end up looking better in it than SMG. Beyond that, I fall asleep listening to David Cross MP3s for yuks, managing to wake up around 11pm with Father Ted which proceeds to once more fuck up my sleep pattern.

I experience a nice dream but when I wake up, it is forgotten. All I have is a smile.

np: High Contrast - Racing Green