So, as predicted the trip to the customer turned out to be a complete, unadulterated sack of shit.

Part down to them not really knowing what they wanted and part down to my inexperience and inability to "sell" the product to them.  I'm a developer, it's not my job to fuckin' sell it.  But fuckit, I still feel pretty shit about the whole shabang.  And that's not including the impending bollocking currently in the post from my boss for telling the customer he shouldn't pay for the time I spent there.  But there we go, I'd have been embarrassed to have been made chargeable for the time I spent there.  I guess now the key here is to salvage the operation, I reckon I'd get huge kudos if I can pull this out of the mire.  Fuckit', someone else can deal with that.

I got a wee bit pished last night.  Pished enough to feel like I was being expelled from Satan's scrotum this morning.  It was fuckin' horrendous.  I think that was the major contributing factor both to my poor performance with the customer and also to me losing the plot at the wee muppet-cunt at the train station.  I was on an extremly tight schedule as I endeavoured to squeeze every last second available to me in my kip.  So, I had 14 minutes to get ready, get my shit together, get to the station, buy my ticket and catch the train.  Plenty of time you might think?  Alas, you'd be wrong.
As I departed, I realised I didn't have my bank card and had to return to get it.  Wasting valuable seconds which ultimately meant I missed the train.  I ran up the stairs as muppet-cunt in a National Rail issue uniform was blowing his National Rail issue whistle.  Another muppet-cunt was standing at an open train door as I got to the train and tried to open the door.

"STAND BACK, GET BACK!!!!" bellowed this wee fanny muppet-cunt while waving his National Rail issue table tennis bat in my face(this may or may not be factually correct, but it looks like a fuckin' table tennis bat to me so fuckit.)
In my shock, I followed the order like a Nazi General.  Just then my alcohol infested sub-conscious started whispering at me "who the fuck is this wee cunt to shout at you?  You're gonna let him?? Pussy..." 

So I launched into a huge tirade about damage I may or may not have inflected by re-issuing his table tennis bat to him.  Wee fuckin' prick.
Incidentally, I felt a bit bad about the whole thing after a while, but these muppet-cunts need to learn that Uniforms, whistles and table tennis bats don't necessarily equal complete authority.  So.... fuck him.

I'm writing this at 13:26, and feel not too bad.  Maybe I should start recording the times that I'm writing these to see if my theory of a real downer in the morning with a gradual increase throughout the day is really what is going on.
Anyway, I'm supposed to be having a few beers tonight for the birthday of a friend.  But I really can't face another morning like this morning.  I wish I could just give up the boozing forever.  But I can't, so fuckit just need to deal with it.

We'll see what tomorrow morning brings to the party!  Can't wait!!