2006-09-14 - 7:04 p.m.

My worsening forgetfulness (Ironically, I forgot to mention this in my diary) means I've potentially done something stupid/wrong and it's not something I can discuss here 'cause of the men. For the ladies all I will say is that I probably won't find out whether I was forgetful or I am just paranoid, well not 'til I either do or don't get toxic shock syndrome and end up losing my legs or something.

Confused? Yeah, so am I...

Damn me and my stupid brain always off thinking about irrelevant things like the shop I'd like when I'm rich enough to do it all properly again and how I would ultimately use it to bring down my enemies (fuck, I'm potentially a forgetful evil genius, all I lack is the cash, bald cat and the erm, genius). Anyhoo, it's either my forgetfulness or my paranoia which is currently at play here and I don't like it one little bit.

Sigh, putting my possibly impending death or disfigurement aside, shall I tell you about the anxiety dream that I wish I hadn't shared with my new (as in old new, not NEW new) work colleagues or the naked fat guy?

Shall I tell you both? Shall I? I think I know my audience and I doubt you can resist the temptation of either can you? The dream isn't as great as the Cary Grant one, granted. To this day, that was my favourite dream and I doubt I'll ever better it, but this one was a cracker of a socially embarrassing dream nonetheless.

I'll think about it. In the meantime the old work colleagues have been talking about when I leave as they want to go for a drink with me after work. Being somewhat of an anti-social bastard I was intending to take half a day flexi time and slink off early but I have to admit they love the pants off me. No disrespect but they tend to be 'normal' folk and they think my car is hysterical, the crap I buy is hysterical (sorry, but doesn't EVERYONE need a Che Guevara glove puppet and an Einstein action figure?) and they all scream with laughter whenever I phone up asking for directions 'cause I've got lost on the way to an appointment again. I'm walking entertainment for the guys in my original department :(

THEN my NEWER colleagues (the newer of my old colleagues) in the sensible office who are learning of my wisdom say that they want to go out to lunch with me in the local 'posh' restaurant on my last day too now. I know it's a 'posh' restaurant as that tosser Prince Edward dined there a couple of months ago. Wanker.

Shit. I just wanna sneak off.....

So, which is it - the diarrhoea dream or the fat naked guy?

...I forgot to ask - are you keeping up?

For the terminally confused, shall I go over it quickly? The OLD colleagues cover everyone in my current job 'cause I leave at the end of this month. The old colleagues can be further divided into my OLD old colleagues - these are the normal folk from my original admin type department, and my NEWER old colleagues who are the sensible, grown-up type people in the office I currently work in. These are the ones who deal with all the anti-social behaviour and scary stuff. I have been in this department for about 6 weeks and have had some great adventures already which includes the naked fat guy, being bodyguard to a clown and turning up to a couple of evictions in what can only be described as a bright orange comedy car.

I'm gonna go now as I've lost track myself so I don't know how you lot have got on with this entry. BTW, I'm not depressed or obsessed with death anymore. Me and my moods eh?

Anyhoo, let me know which story you fancy.....

�

previous - next