Monday, 30 March 2015

Over-long weekend

I was feeling better over the weekend - but today had a relapse and came home from work at about 3pm and went to bed -not so much ill, just really, really tired and out of sorts.

I had a really busy weekend, this was supposed to include a trip to the theatre, which I'd booked about 6 months ago, and a weekend in a 4 star hotel in London judging a student competition that was scheduled later - I ended up being unable to do either - being stuck at home dealing with crap that isn't worth repeating on here but has left me washed out and very bad tempered.

I thought I'd lost both my glasses and my 2nd best watch - turns out I'd just put them in a box with some computer cables (why???). I had a bad feeling I'd taken them to the charity shop by mistake.

I've been able to do a huge amount of spring cleaning over the weekend in between traumas - house is almost minimalist (joke). I'm getting really tired of people emailing me to ask if they can buy something 'off list' on ebay with a sob story and I'm at the point where I've realised I'm developing OCD when it comes to wrapping things. I'm bound to get complaints.
The coverage of the French Alps plane crash has been nothing less than disgusting, stigmatising people with depression and just forcing them to hide it ever deeper. I've know many people with mental health issues and depression - not one of them has ever considered harming anyone but themselves. I have no idea what happened on that plane. Neither has anyone else.

Someone is coming round later t pick up a big box of fat balls - I have once again given up trying to encourage small birds in my garden.

Thursday, 26 March 2015

Thursday evening

Don't ask me why - but I'm in a really good mood today.

I managed to sell enough stuff on eBay today to pay my mortgage for a month - and so far, all communications have been good. My cold is almost gone, I had a really friendly chat with one of my neighbours and probably managed to help a couple of people out, one way or another. I even took a bag of clothes to the Salvation Army shop.

I walked around all the charity shops at lunchtime, the sun was shining - I didn't buy anything (I have hundreds of Savile Row shirts already - it's embarrassing). In the Hospice Shop - which has gone rubbish again, there was a fracas brewing - someone had put a bowl of water out for passing dogs (It's by the Morrisons - Pitbull central) and it had been stolen in less that 10 mins. I didn't get involved. Over at the Oxfam shop the elderly transexual who works there (think Margaret Rutherford meets Baby Jane) was probably a bit drunk - I've never seen her so animated - and shouty. There is a Gieves and Hawkes suit in there for a fiver - it's beautiful - but just that tiny little bit too small - and I've made that mistake too many times before. For some reason, everything at the moment is either slightly too small - or a 50inch chest, a lot of hand-tailored shirts out there at the moment - all for a morbidly obese and presumably dead - city boy.

In the late afternoon, I went over to the Aldi to buy vegetables and cheese. I made the mistake of going there at the same time as all the parents who have just picked their kids up from school - it was packed, mostly with idiots. The kind of people who part their trolley at 90 degrees across the aisle while they talk on the phone, pay for half their stuff in an express till then wander off while they look for something else or who have children they neither like nor tolerate, who just cause violent chaos. One woman with 3 children - she had a particularly hard face and hair scraped back from her brow and help in place by what looked like staples - barged in front of me - as she stormed past - she said something to one of the children, a small girl - who turned and gave me a really filthy look, the kind of glare that takes years to perfect (she was about 8) - the mother realised she was looking at me and shouted 'DON'T EVEN FUCKING LOOK AT HIM'. I'd love to know what she said.

I bought a packet of nut roast style burgers for my dinner - after I'd grilled them - I turned my back just long enough to allow small dog to jump onto the counter and steal them. I bet she was disappointed.


Yesterday I felt rubbish, I had intended working at home - but by lunchtime I was so stir crazy that I decided to get better, by sheer force of will. Oddly, I feel much better outside in the cold air than inside in the warm. It worked, by mid afternoon I was already on the mend. This really improved my mental state and decision-making process, I even did a decent piece of work. Additionally - I resolved 2 weeks of stress by dealing with a difficult political problem at work by walking away, dignity intact - which has cost me a lot of money but I felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria and relief afterwards.

I have 4 high value items ending on ebay today - in about an hour. I am at home because after 7 days of quiet I'm being bombarded by stupid questions from people who clearly can't read.

Typical ebay conversation.

Them - this says it's an empty box - what's inside, is it valuable?

Me - it's empty - it says empty, and there is a photograph of the empty inside

Them - ok, cool. What's inside?

- I've also been asked if I can drop off three vintage fruit machines to an address in Germany.

Not feeling ill has really cheered me up - but if I don't get at least one of two invoices paid by Tuesday - I'm going to be in trouble - so I have that hanging around at the back of my mind. Have some other potential work coming up too - but in my business, 'potential' is a very big word.

Wednesday, 25 March 2015


Fiendishly cold last night, heavy ground frost. Managed to get a decent amount of sleep. I'm going to work at home in the hope my cold starts to improve. I'm also waiting for a parcel of tiny nuts and bolts in the vain hope I can fix my glasses for a fiver rather than having to go out and buy a new pair.

Just remembered something I forgot to do last week. My head is a bit muddy at the moment, that's not ideal.

Quite a lot of speculation that Clarkson will get the sack today. I really hope so. I absolutely cannot understand that man or his program. I've never been interested in cars or speed but have no prejudice towards anyone who has, I've caught bits of that show and it's a mind-numbing bore - the audience are dead-eyed, gormless sycophants - standing around like wax dummies - and the co-hosts are nothing more than stage fool. Clarkson himself is an overstuffed, juvenile egoist with a vastly inflated sense of worth, ignorant, arrogant, deluded by his own mythology, a vain moron with nothing to recommend him. On his own - I couldn't give a toss, he's a dinosaur - but the stupidity of the servile lickspittles who follow him around, wiping up the mess me makes, apologising for his increasing racism, homophobia and sexism make me sick - and yes, even or Prime Minister is in that unholy club. A well know and usually sensible journalist on Twitter last night proclaimed that he disagreed with everything about Clarkson, but at least he paid for BBC4. That's the most offensive, twisted thinking possible. I really don't care how much money he brings in - the world and British television is a better place without Clarkson - although let's face it, he'll be back on TV soon with another channel, just as bad - if not worse. Last night I made the comment on Facebook that 'if anyone want's to bury Clarkson, I have a spade' - shortly after I realised that I'd accidentally made a subtle racist joke that even Clarkson would have been proud of. I now additionally hate him for making me hate myself.

Something I forgot to say last week. When I was in Croydon, I was talking to my friend John in a coffee shop at the station, for some reason I'd just spoken about Micheal Faber's 'Under The Skin' - at that moment, Adam Pearson, the young man with neurofibromatosis who plays a victim in the film, walked past, presumably on his way to work. The coincidence and juxtaposition seems quite bizarre. I was so shocked, I don't think I mentioned it.

Tuesday, 24 March 2015

Tuesday PM

I came home after lunch and went to bed - slept for about 4 hours. Now feel worse. I'll take the day off tomorrow. Anything I need to do can be done from here. I feel really dreadful - I'm not a very good patient and I hate being ill - times like this I'm glad I live alone.

I've just had to pay phsycho woman from ebay £30 to go away and leave me alone. It's been torture.

I was woken earlier by the sound of a baby crying next door - their bathroom is next to my bedroom and it was very quiet, and a very loud baby. I have a bad feeling that once again she's been able to get pregnant and give birth without me even noticing. I should really pay more attention. This is a disaster for me - they now seem to have 3 children in a tiny house with a bedroom and a box room and will want to move - which means I'll be under pressure to fix my roof sooner rather than later. I'm dreading that.


I'm probably going to have to take tomorrow off, I feel worse today than yesterday - thought I'd broken a rib coughing earlier. It's turned wet, cold and damp and I'm probably better off spending a day in bed. I think the guys in the studio would appreciate my absence at the moment. Coughing, spluttering and sniffing. I'm old fashioned, taking a day off sick is weakness... and I don't get paid for what I don't do.

I'm hanging on for a couple of clients to sort themselves out - which is a great frustration as I can't progress until they do - and I can't earn money until I progress.

A very strange and confusing piece of work has turned up - I think it's covered by a previous NDA so I can't talk about it in detail - but I'm not really sure of what I'm supposed to do, or even if they want to pay me. I get that a lot.

I think the crazy woman on ebay is going to leave me alone - she hasn't contacted me since Friday and has not left me any feedback - I may be safe. Really can't understand how to get Paypal to sort out my account, they have a confusing system of online Q&A websites that just don't work and send you back to the beginning if you actually ask a direct question. Waste of time.

Cameron suggesting that Boris could be next PM, when he isn't actually even an MP, makes my blood boil  - it's all so cosy and corrupt.

Several of the butterflies in my loft have woken up - turned up in the bathroom and gone back to sleep - I've left some sugar water in there near them, just in case.

Something nice to look at in the absence of anything interesting to say.