Awake to the first thing that I feel and that thing is _ _ _ _ *.
But we can't mention the "p" word.
It's like the scene in Death Becomes Her when the fat Helen Sharpe is in a psychiatric hospital and the leader of the group asks Helen what she wants to talk about and Helen says "Madeleine Ashton" and the whole room screams in agony.
"How many times do we have to listen to the same fucking story?!"
So today there will be no mention of _ _ _ _. My teeth are fabulous and they don't hurt.
* = pain.
Because today is going to be a good day, I decide to wear my happy T-shirt.
No, it's not gay. It's Topman.
On the Jubilee Line playing Solitaire on my iPhone. I know people are looking at my T-shirt like it's a gay one. It's not the gay flag for God's sake.
In less than a week I will be 31 years old.
Do you know what I think about this? I think nothing. What can I think? What is there to consider?
There is nothing I can undo. There is nothing I can change.
In the past I would have run, I would have panicked, I would have endured regret and remorse. Now I don't care.
I like it like this.
In Tesco buying ready-made grilled chicken.
At the dentist for the third time in two days. I am sick of this now.
"Hi David, it's Bob.
Listen, I was just calling to say thanks again for last weekend.
Yeah - this weekend is going to be difficult. Listen, I called because basically - I had a boyfriend - he's from Cape Town and about a month ago things went a little wrong and we parted ways.
But he contacted me again early this week to see what I was up to and we've agreed to meet and I think we're going to try and make something work again.
I'm sorry - I know I should have said something but I wasn't expecting him to ring. Everything's just been really shit - I've had a tooth infection and... please understand. It's not you, it's me.
Okay. Yeah, before things went wrong we'd been going out for quite some time. I would like to make it work again maybe.
I hope you understand.
No problem. Yep, and if I'm in the area and you're around then let's. Okay.
And listen, thanks again for plucking up the courage to ask me when you did. I was really flattered and I still am.
Fuck, I am so going to hell but it was the only way.
When the animal is in your hand and you have the gun, you have to be brutal. The infection bit was honest at least.
Fuck, I really have just ruined someone's day. Fuck. Fuck. And they were probably looking forward to this weekend too. Fuck fuck. Fuckity.
I did think it through. In these situations you have to create an absolute. Saying "I don't think it's going to work" is wishy-washy because then the other person could say "well, do you want to try?"
The "my former long-term ex wants to give it another try" is good.
This is what I keep telling myself.
I need a former long-term ex. If I were to open auditions would you come?
On the Central Line. No-one asks for my number.
We learn the following things about Will.i.am.
He's 31. Until around two years ago he used to be an electrician in Oxford. Or a sparky, as he keeps calling it.
He's an expert in Jujitsu. He lives in Richmond with his brother.
He knows Cape Town because he had a friend who once came from there.
When he speaks about his "friend from Cape Town" there is a flicker in his eye. Or maybe it's just that he blinks.
Inside my lower gut there is a little spark too. No. Surely not?
Oh yeah, and Chris tells me that amongst the other personal trainers in the club, Will.i.am is known as Gloria. I don't get why.
I am totally in love with a song.
Sebastien Tellier's "Sexual Sportswear" off his album Sexuality.
There are elements of Wendy Carlos's work on the Clockwork Orange soundtrack in it, sounds that hark to early Kraftwerk and all mixed with his sort of Giorgio Moroder nu-electro beat. I absolutely love, love, love it.
It's like the pink spray-painted neon 80s never left us.
And it's more than seven minutes long. Epic.
Plus and. The music video is just as I imagined it would be, so you can get a taste before you
(Buy it, don't steal.)
Oh yeah, and I wanted to say - doesn't the music video say "80s James Bond title sequence" to you? More loving it.
It is time for bed.
For bedtime I am going to imagine myself and my former long term ex in our bed with black satin sheets and pink neon lights as Sexual Sportswear throbs in the background.
I think you should consider auditioning.