Brief history of £20.

Well, I didn't spend it last night. But i did take £20 out of the bank. So I'm effectively £40 down now, and it's only Day 2. Things are not looking good.

And erm, I'm off to the pub now.

Cheap flowers from a garage.

You think you haven't had a very interesting day. Then you realise you're just not looking right.

Today started before I did really. I'd cursed under my breath as my phone went off with a call and two text messages, people wanting my attention, people thinking of me and deciding they need to contact me. That's a pretty big deal really, I'd had an effect on 3 peoples lives, and all I was doing was lying face down in my own dribble whilst dreaming about being in compromising positions with the girl I saw at the bus stop last Thursday. Unfortunately, non of the messages were from her.

Then came the first challenge of the day. Well, the 2nd really, the first was going for a number two (that's slang for 'poo' kids) and having to apply a degree of concentration to make sure I finished the task completely with only the few sheets of toilet paper left. But you don't want to hear about that. So. The first challenge of the day was going to pop my wages in the bank, using one of those new fancy cash counting deposit machines that knows the difference between each note and is really just a couple of turtles inside a plastic box. Anyway. After spending time carefully budgeting how much I needed to put in the bank and how much I could keep for 'Funs Funds', I lobbed my wad (not a euphemism) into the machine and let it do its stuff. All fine and dandy apart from one pesky note that won't be accepted, must have been rude to a turtle or something. Try as a might it won't go in.

Now, I am aware that story isn't particularly interesting. But none the less, like most mundane things, it is important, as this now means I have £20 pounds, in cash, on my person, that I really shouldn't spend this week. This is going to effect every action I make for the whole week. Trying to ignore the fact it is there, trying not to think of new and exciting uses for it. Quite frankly it's going to be a blasted pain in the neck.

The sensible person would have dealt with it by seeking assistance, getting it changed, making sure some how it was given to the damn bank. But I am not a sensible person, and let's be honest, life is nothing without challenges. I shall report back how I got on.

Just now, on my way home from the shop (I bought a Mars Bar, 2 packets of Transform-A-Snack and some plain Seabrooks, I have eaten all but one pair of Transform-A-Snacks already, I may eat that as a reward when I finish this.) I saw a bunch of rotten roses trodden into the floor. I took a picture on my phone but bluetooth is not my friend today. I'm aware they probably just fell out of a bin when the Bin Men came... and by the way, you note how some feMales will complain when you say Police Man or Fire Man, yet nobody ever complains when you say Bin Man, odd I guess.. but anyway, I'm going to have some fun imagining how they might have ended up there anyway.

Obviously when I went for my second number two of the day, there was no toilet paper left.

I can feel it in my bones.

Is it possible to get old over night? As last night wore on my left leg started to ache, as has seemed to be the trend recently, I figured I'd stood on it a lot recently and there's probably moisture in the air or something so nothing too much to worry about. Then, waking up this morning , every joint on my left hand side is registering some kind of pain. 

I've even been drinking more milk recently.

Perhaps it was that vitamin pill I took the other day, it may have been out of date. Or can you overdose on potatoes? The mysteries of the human body know no bounds.

Oops.

I accidentally deleted all my saved text messages today. All the messages I've received over the last year or so that, for whatever reason, meant enough to me that I wanted to keep them to reread when I was feeling low. Gone.

Diary's are cool.

The dreams are getting weirder, and more real. They can be both things. Shut up. Problem is, I'm not remembering them. This is probably part of a bigger problem, but I'll come to that later, if I remember. Thing is though, I'm waking up angry at people, sometimes people I haven't spoke to in weeks. This must mean that people are dicks in my dreams. Admittedly, most of them are dicks in real life, but that's why I spend time with them, puts my own dickery into perspective in my head. And dickery should always be placed firmly in perspective, otherwise you'd end up confused between the small dickery, and the far away dickery. I'm going to stop writing the word dickery now.

What on earth was I nobbing on about? Oh yeah, a message to my brother. If you're going to buy a new car, in my dream, don't park it on a beach at low tide, in my dream, then leave me to guard it, in my dream. I know I'm an impressive man, but I cannot control the tides. Yet.

Idiot!