Things are never where you think they are.

Earlier this week I was moaning about my boring life and of course I have since been reminded by others that it’s far from boring; I really need to learn to pay attention. I guess I’m torn between spending my time obsessing about how I can lose yet more weight in order that I can get down to size zero. And before you get the wrong idea, we’re talking the UK zero, not this wishy washy American size zero which is really a size 4. OK, I let you off with not bothering with half the letters in words but numbers are a fundamental. Anyway, I’m either doing that or thinking of committing suicide due to my colleagues constantly bullying me into making them tea and coffee. It’s really starting to wear me down, I’m just not sure how much more of this I can take before I break.

So yes, as you can see, I’m far too busy to notice if my life is interesting or not. I do however have a ‘friend’ who told me a rather amusing story of what happened to him a few weeks ago. I’ve just cut and pasted his email so I don’t have to type it out again, I’d only spoil it by leaving something out.

So, you wouldn’t believe the night I had about three weeks ago! I was off work and spent the day at home trying to ignore the throbbing in my jaw and the stabbing pain in my ankle, pottered around killing time until I had to go out to a work soirée to say au revoir to a colleague. I’d decided upon a book that I thought he’d like and remembered that a few weeks ago, when I was cleaning out the cupboard, I’d found a few sheets of black wrapping paper. I figured that would be perfect and reminded myself to get a sheet. So I have lunch, pop a couple of painkillers, smoke some organic tobacco and read a book. Lose track of time completely and then end up in a mad rush to get showered and shaved and out the door, after getting dressed of course! So, instantly I turn into Daley Thomson, minus the moustache, as I sprint, shower, clean, dress, eat in record time I congratulate myself with some more organic tobacco and go look for that sheet of black wrapping paper, I’m only about 10mins behind schedule.

I go to the box which holds all that remains of three black rubbish bags worth of ‘crap’ Hmm… no black wrapping paper? I go to the cupboard and have a rummage…Nope, not here. Where did I see I wonder?? I go back to the living room, I open drawers, I pull out papers and books, retracing every step I had made in the last 2 weeks, and probably adding a few more as the effects of the organic produce reached my memory recall dept. I basically turn the flat upside down in about 5mins and suddenly find myself looking at the scene from a Taz cartoon!! OK, I’m now starting to wonder if there ever really existed any black wrapping paper and decide that I’ll give up the search. But fuck! What am I going to wrap the damn book in?! Newspaper?? Nah, not sure even I could try that one. A quick check of my recycling box discovers that the brown DVD mailers HMV send are perfect :) I quickly grabbed my ipod, a quick puff and out the door I went. Only about 30mins behind schedule by now, get on tube and change lines at Finsbury Park. Getting off the train I suddenly become aware that I’m not holding the book! I glance back in the carriage, it’s not there. Fuck! I must have left it on the bus, depending on the efficiency of the bus driver, the book was either trundling between Walthamstow Central and London Bridge, or was in the process of being blown up for masquerading as a suspicious package.

I started to wonder if the day could get any better and pondered just going home for fear that the next misfortune would be to trip and end up head first on the live rail. But the reality was my head was busy trying to run thru events leading up to leaving the house. Ipod…check, keys…check, wallet…check, jacket…check, turn off computer…check, close curtains…check, pick up book…, I said pick up book… The movie in my head rewound in lighting speed, there was the book!! On the kitchen table!! All is not lost, back on tube, back on bus, race home, grab book, and eventually arrive in Boho 90mins behind schedule. The surroundings suddenly come into focus as I venture out of my head and realise the pub that I have ‘auto-pilot’ walked to in the belief that it was the Horse and Cart turns out to be the Wine House…How the fuck did that happen?! A frantic text informs me it is in Covenant Garden and I race there. Thankfully the remainder of the night passed without incident and I returned home and spent nearly 2hours cleaning up the mess I made looking for the black wrapping paper.

Yesterday I went to the bedroom to put some shoes away in a box and when I opened the box to put the shoes in, there were two fucking sheets of black wrapping paper waving at me!!

I’ve already passed on my advice to my friend that he keep a diary of his life for a year, I’m sure he could publish it. I’d buy a copy as I’m sure it would be worth a read. Maybe I’ll get him to write a blog, he likes free things ;-)

I thought musically, it would be appropriate to think of my friends event portrayed on the big screen in some Tarantino-esque sort of way and so I thought I’d acknowledge him in this entries soundtrack.

You possibly don’t recognise the performer but you’ll recognise the song. It’s The Statler Brothers performing Flowers On The Wall…LIVE!! Don’t say I don’t spoil you!
Don’t know about you but that song makes me wanna drink =)

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