Going Gonzo – Pretending To Be Well.

Tuesday, 29th October 2019.


I live in a world where I have to beg for a doctors appointment. Sorry. That’s a lie. I live in a world where, even if I beg, I don’t get a doctors appointment.

That’s karma for you.

Anyway, I’m back to feeling like death. I’m sure there is a lesson to be learnt but whatever it is, it’s beyond me.

Friday, 1st November 2019.


I’m not dead. I’ve still not got an appointment. I’ve had no work.

The only thing that has made me feel better is Guinness. I’ve drunk a load and the pain has pretty much gone.

Maybe it’s lager related?


At least it was an easy job. It didn’t really require me and Big Dave but I think the Guv is feeling guilty about the lack of work.

Put it this way, I’m a monkey short of bill payments!

Nothing new there then.

M&S seem to have abandoned the Cow lager in favour of other brands. I’ve had to opt for a Camden Hells.


“When there is no way forward, all you can do is go back” – MP.

Monday, 4th November 2019.


I’m absolutely, 100% sick of being alive.

Wednesday, 6th November 201i.


Days pass.

I’ve drunk Guinness. I’ve smoked pot. I’ve played RDR2.

Carter’s hallway is nearly done.

I did the laminate.

And the stupid wallpaper. All I have left is the skirting.

In all honesty, I’d rather have been working.

Saturday, 9th November 2019.


I coughed and sputtered my way to the station. This will be the 2nd day I’ve worked this week.

Survival is tough.

I’m still hoping to find out what’s wrong with me but at this stage, it doesn’t really matter. I’ve already convinced myself of imminent death. I just need to decide the details of my exit………

That’s the world we live in.

Typically, whilst writing this, I feel ok. Or I should say, I’ve felt worse.

Day one has been blending into day two. I can’t remember what days I laid in bed in agony and what days I got up and did something productive.

Incoherent thought, excruciating pain and self-hatred, punctuated with moments of rest peace that are cracking down the edges before they even start.

What’s the point of it all? Again. Again.

I ask myself a thousand times a day.


Usual shit.


Welbeck Street.


“All day ticket. I knew, deep down, I wasn’t gonna use it. LATER!” – SM


Believe it or not, I do try and look for positives. Today’s is:

It only cost £1.78. It normally costs £2.18. I think it’s a reduction they do for the early morning alcoholic.


I’ve achieved a few tasks. Eg: made pasta sauce, sealed L-Bob’s room a little more(It’s getting cold. When your eldest lives in a shed you have to put the effort in. Christ! I’m the worst parent of all time).