Monday, 11 May 2009

Mon... bla fuck off.

5:02
It's okay, I'm awake. Well, I'm not but I am. Four hours' sleep. Crap.

7:13
Will someone please shoot me now*.

* = in the non-violence / without a gun kind of way.

9:16
I want this crap to stop, I want to rewind and re-have the nice weekend I had. (Minus the noisy housemate incident)

10:17
Fuck you.

10:41
And you too.

11:21
Go fuck yourself.

12:21
Fuck this shit, I'm going to Westfield.

13:02
Babies crying, people walking slowly and wandering from left to right. Groups of school kids walking six abreast and holding hands.
This cannot last. I have to leave.

15:24

17:18

19:05
Gym. It gets worse for three reasons:
1/ Idiot straight fuck-wits who have no sense of personal space.
2/ Idiot straight fuck-wits who have no sense of personal space.
3/ Idiot straight fuck-wits who have no sense of personal space.

Fuck off and stand somewhere else. I was here first.

19:21
A brief glimmer of hope and a ray of light.
Chris appears and calls me The Robster. He asks how my weekend was. I tell him.
We says he is free for five minutes and we do some abdominal exercises.

He is a former Men's Health model and he calls me The Robster. This is the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me.

20:19
In Sainsbury's with more people who... I can't even justify typing this.

21:10
I am supposed to meet Andrew in Soho for a drink.
Instead I stay at home and cry.

22:13
Nothing. Nothing at all could have prepared me for the day that was going to unfold.

If today were expressed as a number on the scale from one to 100, with a hundred being a perfect day, this Monday would probably rate -9.e+64

If you managed to round up every single embittered old gay and packed them into Wembley Stadium, you still wouldn't get an idea of just how negative today has been.

I do get a bit sorry for Monday because I think it has a tough time but when it vomits days like yesterday, I have no sympathy.

Typing any more of this is just going to make the situation worse.

22:19
Do you mind if we forget about today and I go to bed? I would ask you to join me but bad interactions would probably push me over the edge, into an abyss of despair and hopelessness.

Sometimes you just. can't. do. It.

22:21
Memo to God from The Robster:
Please make tomorrow better.

3 comments:

BrianB said...

*hug*

Hoping Tuesday is better for you.

MadeInScotland said...

It's all very well having a mask over your mouth, but what about the Robster nose?

ahoj

Bobby Cox said...

Brian: It has been substantially better. So far! ; )

Scotch: I think the threat is over now. I need to change that!