Tuesday, October 06, 2009

Headache

I have a headache. A headache caused by the dating game, epic TV serials, smoking, and former work colleagues. Moreover, I have a headache because of the vicious ringing in my ears. Perhaps if I stopped going to bed at 3am and had more than four hours sleep before getting up for work, I might have less of a headache, but that would leave me with less to complain about and that just WOULD NOT DO.

I have an impending date lined up for next week. The date is not yet set, but it will be. I wish I could be more enthusiastic, but I'm not. You see, I had wanted to be a few pounds lighter once I'd recommenced the giddying thrill of frightening courting young(ish) women. I also wanted to have a better job too, but I received a rejection from the one job I applied for this year. 'Twas a shame, as I'd started to daydream about the 10 minute walk-commute to work, the shorter hours, more money (8 grand more), and the writing I'd be allowed to do. But tis not to be. 35, and I'm already on the employment scrap-heap.

On the plus side, I'm finding life rather fun now that I'm no longer spending my free time writing a (Ha!) 'novel' every day. I've been out a lot more (tons of fun, but painful on the liver/ wallet). I've also treated myself to some new clothes and a handful of dvds, one of my treats being the entire run of Deadwood - watching it for the first time five years after the rest of the planet as I make my slow, cocksucking way through all three seasons. (Please Google that reference as that, in retrospect, reads as a wholly inappropriate sentence for a straight man.)

Swijin!

Meanwhile, this afternoon, in between swearing at the ringing phones and eating a rancid prawn cocktail sandwich, I ventured out to Boots - for the benefit of non-Angloids, a popular British pharmacy (that I've also seen on the Kao San Road in Bangkok, btw) - who are, in conjunction with the wonderful if much maligned NHS, offering a quit smoking programme. My nicotinal habit, you see, is becoming somewhat worrying. I'm developing a pain in my heart that isn't for once caused by the absence of an understanding and patient woman, or the lingering resentment garnered by a perfectly good life atrophying in shit.

For £7.20, I get as much nicotine replacement in gum, patch or inhaler form as I can imbibe for five weeks, and lots of progress consultations. I can't wait. I want to feel like a socially accepted heroin addict in remission.

And finally, last week, as I stood on the tube flicking through the free evening paper, I found myself gasping in shock to the bemusement of the other passengers. There, staring back at me, was Nemesis II, looking serious and sex-pesty as the story in question had him a witness to a frankly horrific accident in which a cyclist fought with a lorry.
The lorry won.

I'd like to dwell more on the young woman who died in such a barbaric way as she made her way home from work, and avoid the irritation I felt at revisiting that twat in newspaper form, but what can I say. We are all, as Freud had it, rather self-obsessed.

I still feel awful about the whole business though, and that's miserable and gives me a greater headache.

Sorry.

6 comments:

heybartender said...

Deadwood rules.

livesbythewoods said...

By crikey you're a decent writer.

Do it more often, you bugger, I like your blog a lot.

Anonymous said...

Start publishing some excerpts from your novel on this here blog.

Dare you.

Ann Anon x

Ellie said...

Ibuprofen?

And ditto what anon says.

i am not your freud said...

drink more water and make sure you air out the room while you're smoking. those cause a headache too.and yes SLEEP dammit. good luck with the job hunting xx

fwengebola said...

HB ~ Yes, it is quite brilliant.
Lives ~ God, you're kind. I am trying to be more focussed in my downtime and go back to more postings. It's hard, though. Especially when nothing happens.
Anon ~ I can't; it's rubbish. I will endeavour to re-write the whole thing, and maybe something'll go up.
I think.
Ellie ~ Seriously, I can't. Plus I'm scared.
(Not of Ibruprofen)
E ~ I do air my room daily. I'm not sure if that's the main cause. It's probably everything else, and all that worry.
But thanks, ducks.