"I find a duck's opinion of me is very much influenced by whether or not I have bread." - Mitch Hedberg

"William wakes with his clothes on
The morning call has been and gone"


For the first time in quite a while, my dirty laundry pile is small enough to look over whilst in the bath. Whilst it's not much of a view, it does indicate that I've done some washing!

I'm dreading, absolutely dreading returning to work after my fortnight off (is fortnight a British expression? I must investigate... ...seems it is, and in commonwealth countries. On a tangent for Commonwealth, read countries we used to kill for expansion, but who now we want to be friends with, probably for oil!) Not because I have any reason too, just that status change dread. For all the loneliness and boredom, it wasn't all bad! I really am rambling am I not. But remember when you were a kid, and the feeling you got on the last few days of the 'six weeks' holiday (as we called it, you may have called it something completely different, in fact I'm sure of it) that knot in your stomach, the sense of doom (apparently a heart attack produces a sense of doom, but I'm pretty sure it's not that). Must try and focus...

I need something to look forward too. Something to carry me over the next , er , bit of my 'so called life'. No holidays booked yet, as their anticipation usually works, it's my Birthday soon, but that is certainly no cause for celebration, no social events of any kind. In fact I cannot adequately convey just how monotonous my life is, but most of the time it doesn't seem to bother me. Not because I'm content however, but that the (much) previously mentioned fear of change petrifies me in it's turned to stone sense. Change isn't exactly the right word, but you catch my much heralded drift I suspect.

I've been stuck in a bit of cyclical thinking for the past few weeks, I really should try and break out of it, but my thoughts keep returning to the same thing , again and again and again*

I'm very tired, a bit run down, and feeling quite, quite sorry for myself, so please indulge me one more time as I take another swig from that big bottle o' self pity i keep on the desk here.
Cheers!
Glug, Glug, Glug...

*fancy that

“We'll never know the worth of water till the well goes dry.” - Scottish Proverb