Suffice to say I'm in limbo, drifting like a twig on the shoulders of a mighty stream, but it's a good limbo, like that drunk Victoria Beckham-a-like in a denim skirt with no knickers lady. (WARNING: Link NSFW!)
Anyway, I'm feeling pretty Not-Shit™, and for two fleeting reasons:
Fleeting Reason 1) ~ I've stopped working my shit novel. It was shit, for one thing. Actually, that's the main thing. I just wasn't feeling it anymore, and it was making me unhappy.
Since completing my (worse than shit) 1st draft over a year ago, I realised that my real life was more interesting that the world I'd invented. Thus I began to rewrite what was, in essence, a fictionalised account of my own biography, which as a nobody I found overwhelmingly egotistical on one hand, and pretty lame on the other.
I had Imposter Syndrome big time, that's what I'm trying to say. Whenever I tried to write, I felt like an amateur just play-acting, and when I thought about it, I was a lousy storyteller with no better story than my own.
But I'm pretty happy. I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted off of me. I'm not saying I'll never go back to the story, but in the short term I'm backing off, like people with vaginas near me in a bar.
Fleeting Reason 2) ~ I'm back on a diet again, and there's nothing quite like Doing Those Things You Know Are Good For You to give you an endorphin shot in the brain.
I regained over Xmas (and January, and February, and the last couple of months) all the weight I'd lost the previous summer and, in true Really-Not-Good-For-The-Heart fashion I'm going to relose all that shit again. It transpires I'm a Hibernator. When the cold nights draw in, I like to snuggle up on the sofa with deep-fried tubes of Pringles and a barrel of scotch. Now I'm going to fuck myself healthy with lettuce for dinner and running on a treadmill till I cry pure lard.
All this means I can concentrate on really important matters-
a) ~ Get a new job.
This may prove awkward as I returned from the Easter break to discover our 'New' colleague of the last couple of years has resigned. It's now my boss and me. And I'm not sure how to play it - the timing certainly sucks - but I have to move on.
As I may have mentioned several billion times, the pay's not great, my hours are too long, and I'm bored and irritable there. It'll be a death sentence of the soul if I stay on.
b) ~ Get a bloody girlfriend.
Because this is getting silly now. I'm completely out of practice too. A couple of weeks ago I went to a gig and met a female friend of a friend and I sweated, actually sweated, in blind, abject panic, all because I was talking to a woman - So basically I'm regressing back into a virgin.
I've got a lot of work to do, but jogging myself out of my man-tits may help, even if just turning 37 doesn't.
But on a happier note I emailed the American ex and told her to extricate off, so that's that loving chapter finally closed.
And there's nothing else. Really. Just a dull update following my recent birthday where I decided to have a post-work pub gathering which was tremendous - barring my decision to furnish my guests with some buffet snacks. I hadn't specified a limit and ended up paying £130 for a metric ton of onion rings.
I also accidentally wound up in Spearmint Rhino on the eve of my birthday, where a Brazilian lady whacked me repeatedly round my head with her fake breasts for approximately 20 seconds, a rate of £1 per second, an act I found so unerotic it was strangely erotic, as well as seedy and completely pointless and slightly humiliating.
But on the plus side, I have since had an AIDS test, following that sex I had with a Thai prostitute. I panicked when I first received my results, as it didn't read correctly. But the truth quickly kicked in, so come and get me ladies --
PS - although you already knew that. I've been out of the loop of my own blog, I forgot I mentioned that nearly 2 months ago.
PPS - Oh yeah, and I mentioned the ex-girlfriend thing in the post before. Not really sure why I bother.