Going Gonzo – Bank Holiday

Friday, 19th April 2019.


I’ve had my big sleep. I’ve answered my final email of the week. Now, it’s just about me until Tuesday.

I’ll be truthful. I really don’t know what to do with myself. I am currently laying on my bed, listening to Park life. I’ve just hit End Of The Century.

I’m dressed.

The windows and balcony are open.

I can see blue skies.

As always, my mind drifts towards that little bit of honey.

To alleviate the pain.


I did think of something to do.

A variety of projects

Saturday, 20th April 2019.


Predictably, I’m in the George with Louis. He said he would buy me breakfast.

The breakfast I just paid for!….

After he dumps me I’ve decided to spend the rest of the day at Carter’s. Do some garden lounging.


I made it to Carter’s.

A few tasks had to be achieved though.

A little supply shopping and trying to explain to my dad that I’m not an alcoholic and getting counter signatures for a power of attorney document.

The “alcoholic” thing came up because my mum is embarrassed about the amount of empties in the recycling bin. My dad caught her putting them into her shopping trolley and disposing of them in the bins down the river.

I played it down.

I, personally, think that he should be more worried about why my mum thinks she needs to hide my drinking from the bin men.


Ultimate lazy motherfuckerness.

I’ve ordered delivery.

Monday, 22nd April 2019.


As to be predicted, I lost Sunday. I came home from Carter’s. Played a little RDR2. Then, all of a sudden, here I am.

I awoke in a fog of self hatred. Combined with nasal congestion and pain. I say awoke. It was more like coming to my senses.

I lolled around in bed until 12.30 then took Louis to his girlfriends house in Sunbury. I lost my shit after that. It was too hot to driving about. I told him to get a bus home.


I took the Miriam home. Then walked to the Beehive to meet Mare. As some of you might know, it’s not the best place to go if you are in a “darknened” state but I needed to catch up with Mare.

FYI: We sat in the garden.

A Guinness and 2 big Peroni’s later, the shit that needed saying had been said. Mare went back to her bohemian paradise and I returned to my private hell.

At dinner, I told a few anecdotes to avoid any real conversation and retreated to my room until Louis rung complaining he couldn’t get a bus.

I drove.

I collected.

Now we are home.

Work tomorrow.

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