Diary of an up and coming sociopath

I had one of my trademark horrendous colds this weekend, the kind that involve feeling like I’ve been kicked in the face, from the inside out. But on the other hand, there’s that one glorious moment to look forward to each morning when I sneeze and all sorts of yellow rcrap comes out and I know that I’m on the mend. Plus I got the day off work because I was having a slight case of difficulty focussing on the screen without severe head pain, but that’s gone now.

None of this was helped by the traffic we encountered yesterday on the way home. Usually, it takes us plenty under 90 minutes to get from door to door, Warwick to Ealing. Yesterday, Damian and I left Josh’s at 5:45, picked up Nikki, and then didn’t get here until gone 9. Something very horrible had clearly happened (and I’m not talking about the strange disappearance of one hour this weekend) and it meant that in order to get back, we had to first wait in traffic for a few hours, and then try a diversion of our own making through Wycombe, which naturally every other Tom, Dick and Harry with a road atlas and a chimp-like sense of reasoning had decided upon.

My point is, that I would very much like to complain to the management. I’m not entirely sure who that would be, but I’m leaning heavily upon directing the complaints to whichever swedish hauling contractor flipped his juggernaut across 3 lanes of traffic after falling asleep at his filthy right-hand drive, since I’m relatively certain that’s the kind of thing that was going on. 3 hours to drive home is far beyond the limits of my charity. I hope they’re dead, because if not, I’ll kill them.

Previous to this, I had been at Dad’s for lunch, and then on Saturday Damian, Josh and I drove down to Memorabilia at the NEC (Where Josh bought a replica sword, Damian bought a Genshiken figure, and I bought the Robot Chicken DVD) then to the Stonebridge toby carvery, and then to Leamington where we roamed around the new development, which is trés trendy. It feels like they’ve placed a slice of Covent Garden actually /in/ Leamington. We went for drinks at the well, which was surprisingly deserted and full of people wearing shirts. Most surprising. We played on the quiz machine and won about £4 in total, but at the overall expense of £5.

I’m not so bothered about that quid, because this month I got all my taxes back after finally being shuffled onto the right administrative code. Whatever the hell they mean. This meant a paycheck fattened with over £1000 of ripe monies and a healthy bid goodbye to the overdraft, though I’ll hang onto it just in case, for now. I also paid off all those tickets on my credit card.

Today, when I was feeling up to typing, I also did some more comics reviews for Noise to Signal.