Monday, 21st January 2019.
As you can tell by the time, it’s been a ridiculously busy day at work. Basically, from the minute I got in, it went pear-shaped. It wasn’t any one persons fault. Everything just went wrong.
That’s all I have to say about it.
I eventually got home at about six thirty. I normally leave just before five.
I’m fucking shattered. Too much brain work. I need a shave and a drink and a temporary lobotomy.
I’ll try this first:
That made me feel slightly more in touch with myself.
The only other event of the day worth recording, is this photo Louis sent me when I asked him what he was up to.
It speaks for itself.
I gotta try and sleep.
“We get these pills to swallow.
How they stick in your throat.
Taste like gold.”
Tuesday, 22nd January 2019.
I didn’t sleep again. Not until at least 3am anyway.
So, I went into work half hour early for the, endlessly rescheduled, staff meeting.
That’s done now. I’ve met everyone.
I really must ring the tax man tonight. The problem is, I’ve had that thought, everyday, for the last five days.
I’m home. The snow is coming down. Hopefully, it won’t settle too much on the roads.
I had 4 phone calls to make this evening and I started them with full commitment.
After an hour and a half, I’d managed to get through to one credit card vendor. The other two credit cards left me holding for 15 minutes each. I stayed on hold with the taxman for 30 minutes then gave up.
Here’s my question:
Can I leave them on hold for the same amount of time when they ring me?
Can I fuck!
At least I made the effort. I’ll try again tomorrow.
I decided after last nights unknown insomnia, that I wouldn’t watch TV. I’ll keep the stimulation to a minimum.
I’ve put Stephen Fry reading Sherlock Holmes on Audible and doodled.
Prior to this, I listened to some vinyl and drank gin.
The best thing about vinyl is being able to look at the artwork and read the inlay.
I’m unsure if I feel more relaxed or not, but it has made a change from the norm.
It might just be the money worries and stresses of the new job. I’m not consciously thinking about it but that subconscious can be a complete wanker.
I just look up at my PC. This is the random photo that I saw.
More importantly, I would like to revise my previous musing.
Stephen fry’s voice is doing its job. I do feel more relaxed/able to sleep. It also helps that I have read the complete Sherlock Holmes too many times to count. I virtually know it word for word.
“I will never assume that!”, ejaculated Watson.
Jesus. Watson ejaculates a lot in the adventures. Much less in the case books.
He probably got old?…………
I know how he feels.