Moanday
Bad mood all day. It started this morning as I stood in a packed and elbowy crowd outside Victoria station listening to the penetrating and unremitting bleep of the alarm for 25 minutes before being allowed into the station. Then at work, I wasted the whole day on a rubbish idea for this new pitch.
Briefly out for a colleague's leaving lunch in the ghastly Puzzle. Ate a chicken burger and looking out at rain falling on Fulham Palace Road. But at least got to catch up with the French Bloke who was sitting next to me.
Most evenings now I turn up at Victoria in time to watch my train depart. This ensures I have the maximum opportunity to wait in the non-space of the station. Today was better, at least I used the time to speak to Sophie. Also my boss at work who called to discuss what we could do about the rubbish idea tomorrow.
Home listening to The Lord of the Rings as an audio book as I played the Zuma on my mobile phone like a maniac. It's really hard to play it on a phone, but that doesn't stop me.
Was accosted as I was entering my front door in the rain by a man wanting money. Safely indoors, I resolved not to give up on the day. So I took myself out again to a pub where I saw a Monday night poetry session advertised. When I arrived at the pub, needless to say, it wasn't on. The barman said it was an occasional thing.
I decided to have a pint anyway. I took it to the corner where I put it on the table and it simply fell over due to the table being made out of reclaimed wood and not at all level.
The whole pint poured over me and some people on the next table. The nice barman gave me another one, and I sat there after he mopped up in my dripping anorak in a puddle of beer amid a crowd of hip young things feeling pretty fed up and solitary.
Home again and finally began to feel better. For tomorrow is another day and, thank God, not a Moanday.
Bad mood all day. It started this morning as I stood in a packed and elbowy crowd outside Victoria station listening to the penetrating and unremitting bleep of the alarm for 25 minutes before being allowed into the station. Then at work, I wasted the whole day on a rubbish idea for this new pitch.
Briefly out for a colleague's leaving lunch in the ghastly Puzzle. Ate a chicken burger and looking out at rain falling on Fulham Palace Road. But at least got to catch up with the French Bloke who was sitting next to me.
Most evenings now I turn up at Victoria in time to watch my train depart. This ensures I have the maximum opportunity to wait in the non-space of the station. Today was better, at least I used the time to speak to Sophie. Also my boss at work who called to discuss what we could do about the rubbish idea tomorrow.
Home listening to The Lord of the Rings as an audio book as I played the Zuma on my mobile phone like a maniac. It's really hard to play it on a phone, but that doesn't stop me.
Was accosted as I was entering my front door in the rain by a man wanting money. Safely indoors, I resolved not to give up on the day. So I took myself out again to a pub where I saw a Monday night poetry session advertised. When I arrived at the pub, needless to say, it wasn't on. The barman said it was an occasional thing.
I decided to have a pint anyway. I took it to the corner where I put it on the table and it simply fell over due to the table being made out of reclaimed wood and not at all level.
The whole pint poured over me and some people on the next table. The nice barman gave me another one, and I sat there after he mopped up in my dripping anorak in a puddle of beer amid a crowd of hip young things feeling pretty fed up and solitary.
Home again and finally began to feel better. For tomorrow is another day and, thank God, not a Moanday.
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