Am I just a miserable cunt?  Is that what the issue is?  Fuckin' comic relief.  It certainly feels like the office has been relieved of any comedy.  Cunts dressed up as pinhead, gorilla's and most bizarrely a middle-aged man wandering around with only a towel wrapped around him?  What the fuck is going on there!?

Feeling pretty fuckin' shit.  Could be down to a couple of smokes last night.  I'm pretty sure I don't want to smoke, but I can't help it now.  I think it's much like most drugs that I've tried.  None of them are ever as good as the hype that surrounds them.  Yet, I want the feeling that the hype promises, and I go back every time.  It's fuckin bizarre. 

Funny things drugs... Maybe it's just me, but I never enjoy myself enough to justify the extreme low that follows.  I guess the same with boozing, but I generally do have a good time to justify the hangover.  Well... at least to make at almost justifiable.

So yea... these people, dressed up... this pretend camaraderie in the office.  The smiles after bitching, the disapproving looks followed by "I love your outfit"... Fuckin' hell.  Everyone is a cunt.  Are there any proper genuine people in the world?  Who the fuck knows... Not that I'm any better.  I'm not going up to the half naked man and telling him he should know better at his age and that he looks ridiculous am I?

No I just fuckin' moan about it here.  To no-one...  write all this shit down for anyone/no-one to read and perhaps cheer themselves up safe in the knowledge that there are other people who are miserable as fuck with no real problems or logical explanation as to why they are miserable.  Other than poor me, life is shite... melodramatic, Dawson's Creek... "I'm so misunderstood" bullshit.  Fuckin teen-angst at 26?... gimme a fuckin' break.

My "lets get my head down and work hard" head has been replaced by a "let's just fuck off somewhere, (although not too far, because your leg won't be able to handle the journey) but yea.... let's go.  Just get to fuck"... But then, money comes into the equation.  How do you "fuck off" without the appropriate funds in place?

So you work with the intention of saving, for this fucking off business, but the monotony or the mundane reality of life drives you to seek some solace in a bottle of beer or whisky, and instead of the saving up for fucking off fund growing, your beer gut is the only thing to show for your hard work.

How can I be skint?  I earn good money, I don't have *that* many outgoings?  But it's because I wanna go out and through money around and pay £40-50 in a taxi instead of getting the train and try and live way beyond my means.  I'm so shite with money.  That's why I need to be rich, so I don't need to think about it.

Fuckit... what can ye do?

It'll be a quiet weekend for me this weekend I feel.  Although I have some friends coming to watch the football at the weekend.  I hope I can shake this shit off and try and be a decent host for my guests.  Ahh fuck 'em, they know what I'm like by now.  I'll try though... not much boozing, good living.  That's the key as established in previous blogs.  Fresh air and healthy food may not quite be the complete answer to making yourself happy.  But I'm guessing it must be better for your mental wellbeing than Findus Crispy Pancakes and Jeremy Kyle.