October 10 (Sunday): Patriotism, Pepper, Professionalism. Dream: I'm, walking around Clacton, escaping what seems to be a foster family that I am living with and it gets me in trouble with the police. Later we are playing five-a-side when the game reaches an abrupt halt. Jack appears to be feigning injury, Jez gets in a huff and begins packing up and it becomes apparent that I am dropped. I speak to Isabelle and she tells me that I have been instructed to stop playing in order to concentrate on my A-Level. Bollocks. Basically, in the real world, I get the inkling that Jack is about to fuck me over again.

I wake up and it is another slow Sunday, Sunday's are a real drag. Sadly, my day mainly consists of too much FIFA 2005 on Playstation 2 and I only get better and better at during the course of my day while I really should be concentrating on either: writing, revising or sorting my flat out.

Eventually I do a newspaper run but head home to safety almost immediately, Sundays are for stronger minds than mine.

The remainder of the day pretty much consists of zip.

In the afternoon I make attempts at watching Eternal Sunshine Of A Spotless Mind on DVD but it just manages to send me to sleep, my now regular/weekly Sunday afternoon nap it seems. Only, I always awaken from it feeling utterly lazy and pathetic with a big line of guilt running down my back like a white stripe.

In the evening I do the do, in preparation of my trip to Mildenhall in the morning. I do actually manage to get into writing some but when I try to soup it by taking a shot of Rocket Fuel coffee, for some reason pangs of agony hit me on my left shoulder and neck and turn me into a cripple unable of any chores.

TV saves the day however, showing the nominees from the nineties for the Music Hall Of Fame. It is an utter farce but the segments on Oasis and Nirvana are pretty cool, even if they make it all seem really old and dated, and having Henry Rollins comment on prime time TV about the Spice Girls is worth the price of admission in itself. That and Steve Albini on primetime commenting on the career of Nirvana. Good show in the end but I have this horrible, nagging feeling that Radiohead will win whilst also being humourless and dreary dull.

However, it does not put and end to my neck and shoulder pains and they are in full strength as I turn in for the night.

np: Living Colour - Love Rears It's Ugly Head