Despite this somewhat moody title, I'm not particularly hacked off. It just reads as if I am. Perhaps it's the struggling to come to terms with another year of having to change everything about my life yet again, and for the billionth time.
Plus it's cold out.
* Cycling, swimming, marital arts; The combined 2007 hell of 24 miles pedalled, 16 lengths swam, and a mere hour spent punching and kicking thin air was enough to make me realise I have all the fitness and stamina of a fat 40-a-day pensioner with no legs.
I have so much physical work to put in, it's not funny.
And all because of three gorgeous weeks spent not doing any of the above, and instead creatively spending my time watching awful TV and eating Happycarbs™ from a very comfy chair that lovingly cradled my now volumous arse.
If I had a girlfriend, she would've screamed at me to get off it.
* All this healthy eating is making my digestive tract implode. Switching from a diet of shit to a diet of lettuce is clearly confusing to a lower intestine. I'm on a vague plan of low carbs and low fat, high fibre and high protein, with no beer or fags ever. So far, so good. I have only wished myself dead a mere 7 times this year.
* I have been trying to switch banks for two months now. I have been with Abbey National since I was eight, and have finally snapped because of outgoing direct debits putting me four pounds over my overdraft, and incurring a £50 fine (Over the years this has happened at least six times). Plus they're just cunts. As a fuck you, I eventually hunted around for a better bank and chose Halifax, particularly as they boast "If you think switching your current account to the Halifax could be complicated then don’t worry – our dedicated Switching Team will do it all for you!", except that's a barefaced fucking lie. A month ago when I phoned to see why no objects de banque had arrived, I was informed that several new accounts were being hampered by some computer malfunction, and no-one could possibly rectify this until the new account holder phoned up to yell.
So anyway, long story short, I get to the gym this morning like I have done most days for the last year and a half, and got told at reception that my membership - ie my monthly fee - has been cancelled. This is because Halifax's dedicated Switching Team haven't done anything, because all banks are useless and greedy and staffed by inept fucking plankton. I phoned the Halifax and discovered that my rent and council tax among others haven't been paid yet either - I'm expecting something nasty in the post soon - so I asked the guy at the end of the phone how much I could fine them.
He didn't know.
So I've swapped one greedy inept bank for one that so far, is just inept. Things are looking up.
* My lovely ex-girlfriend hasn't responded to my suggestion that I fly out to New York to see her in a few weeks. She was keen when I put it to her personally a few days ago in London. Now she's back home with her boyfriend only a few blocks away, I've clearly made things a bit awkward for her.
So that's that.
If I did go, I'd probably have to get a hotel. And I'd only get one evening to catch up with her. The rest of my time I'm sure I could easily amuse myself, probably in bars cursing that all my spending money's gone on a fucking hotel. And I'm pissed off that her heart chooses me but her common sense chooses him, what with him being 4 miles away compared to my four thousand.
Of course, I could've not dumped her initially.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
I really want a pizza and garlic bread starter followed by a kebab dessert.
At least Celebrity Big Brother's started. I was particularly shocked to hear that H from Steps Came Out just prior to entering the house. This was followed by the equally shocking news that 'Nazis are bad', and 'Jim Davidson is a wanker'.
Random Update 9:50pm ~ Don't let Large Northern Flatmates shave your head in an effort to save on hairdressing bills. I am now taking tomorrow morning off so I can visit said hairdresser to make me look less like an epileptic punk who cuts his own hair.