September 27 (Monday): Palmice. This morning I wake up absolutely shattered and after my bouts with the toilet last night, I come so so close to calling in sick with food poisoning and having a day off. However I am way too honest for my own good and I’m a good guy and pull myself together for work but not before MSNing briefly with Sara.

I get into work and today there is no Stevo and no Emma, which all in all makes things for a very boring day at work. There is Sandip though.

At lunchtime, I knock around with Ivan, posting a panic credit card payment.

When I get home in the evening, I find myself once more both MSNing and Sara and Bella at the same time, the winner once more being Sara who actually appears to have a life.

Bored with things, I get out of the house and do a supermarket run of both Asda and Tesco Highwoods, where I buy Football Factory on DVD. Asda is fucking horrible at the moment, they are doing some un-needed renovation and the place is now chock full of black security guards, talking fuck knows what language making the whole experience of shopping in the building akin to visiting the Bronx or something, the heavy security is fucking ridiculous and horrible.

Things get fruity tonight when I return home and talk some more to Sara on MSN. We have noticed/acknowledged that Jason PM is a lot more nicer/friendlier than Jason AM but not it is time for Sara’s revenge as Sara PM turns out to be a horrible fucking cow, as opposed to Sara AM. Stupidly it takes me a long long time to clock that she is messing about like this because she is probably pissed but we begin swapping snipes and making jibs at eachother which begin to get really really nasty and hostile. We try to outdo eachother, talking about people we’ve fucked and why we wouldn’t fuck eachother, seeming to be trying to make the other person jealous. She then begins comparing mine and her lives, picking holes in my stubborn sticking to Colchester and Essex while she has flitted off to Dubai and “made it�. She gets really arsey and arrogant and she informs me how she has so overtaken me career wise and how I am basically too scared to do anything. She really baits me but I tend not to bite/hook but I do find myself getting hurt by such jibes and her whole seeming, spitefulness of saying such things to me. However, things do not end at this point. I begin to suggest/subtly accuse her of being a silver spooner and then she really kicks off at this accusation, bringing up the subject of her mum’s side of the family. It turns out that her mum’s side of the family is “nuts� and has various members in the clink, with links to gangsters in London including involvement with the Richardsons. Our MSN conversation becomes really surreal, it as if little Miss Haslett has turned into Sam Butcher from Eastenders right in front of my eyes. It is a really unbelievable exchange. It ends with her telling me how heavies were sent around to her ex-fiancée’s house to rough him up and how she could have been beaten up at the drop of a hat. It freaks me out some because it is all so fucking stupid and I don’t know what is going through Sara’s mind in saying such nonsense to me.

Luckily she goes and I get to go to bed to fight another day.

np: Snoop Dogg – Drop It Like It’s Hot