Perhaps it's your outlook that needs a good bend, a ninety degree bend to a place where happiness is perpendicular to wonderment.
London in Spring really is nice. Nice perhaps doesn't do it justice; 'very nice' perhaps. Everything is blooming and fresh and new, and it has hardly rained in the month I've been here. What has also failed to happened in that month is me procuring a job...or an interview....or a phone call….or a card…or in fact any hint that anyone is the slightest bit interested. This is perhaps partly due to a slow start on my behalf non-the-less any form of interest from employment agencies would be nice. On the up side I've got more free time than I've had in ages (Thailand was awesome but we did always seem to have something planned, I'm not sure what in retrospect, perhaps 'recover for next drinking session' or something like that) and decided to do a few things. Bureaucracy at the local gym quickly shot down that avenue though as without a bank account they were going to charge me 1 million dollars (this is not an exaggeration)* for individual sessions as they only accept membership payments through direct debit. Since the gym was off the cards I took the next logical step and baked/ate sugary treats whilst watching Family Guy, Peep Show, The IT crowd, and a bit of Futurama. Peep Show is hilarious. A bit cring-worthy at times but the absolute piss-funny moments make up for it. It has my official seal of approval.
Now this could just be my own neuroses shining though, but at what point did the number of comments on ones blog page become directly proportional to A)the number of friends one has and, B)a justification for not updating one's blog at all? Thinking about this, and then thinking about thinking about it, I've decided that particular line of thought is in breach of my initial mission statement; namely to have a personal reference for future err, reference given the continued incompetence of my brain to recall simple facts. I will admit that having a blog has (or least did) tend to spur me on to do lots of new stuff in order to write about it however this wasn't the primary goal. Thus from now on I will not concern myself with the number of comments I receive as I have evolved past such petty concerns.**
Oh, and another thing; in case the people who designed Hammersmith (and no, I won't accept that being dead for several centuries could be an impediment to this (or the fact that urban planning is a relatively modern concept (except for the French but, well, who cares?)))are reading this, I put forward the proposition that you are/were in fact a retarded, pre-schooler on acid with no hands using a lump of coal to design that particular borough. I wondered around for about 20 minutes today trying to find a bus stop that turned out not to exist.
I have finally moved into my new flat in Barnes and as of this Saturday will have all two bedrooms of it to myself. Not knowing anyone in London (Chia and Audrey excepted of course) and being unemployed this doesn’t exactly put me on the social bus to friendship. It is a lovely place however and the guy who's about to move out has been very nice even going so far as to invite me to his going away drinks; a touch awkward initially but a few pints later I was the epitome of social sophistication.***
So until the next exciting chapter from the annals**** of unemployed Chris......
* It is, in actual fact, a gross exaggeration.
** I shall instead leave the metric of friendship in the far more systematic and reliable hands of analytics software and hidden counters.
*** This is not true but I got drunk and thus had fun. Peep Show quote: "You can't be depressed when you're pissed, it's not possible."
****……Annals….. oh come on, it’s funny.