I’ve just about pulled back a little financial dignity after Thursday night’s shenanigans. All I have to do is breeze through the next week and the world will be righted.
Apart from all the lovely deliveries, the other prospect of the week is my chosen bidding option on housing.
It ain’t much but it would be perfect for me and the L-bob. I’ll pretend I have a chance of getting chosen.
I managed to survive the weekend without any serious, narcotic, recruitment. This means, I am on course for full, financial recovery. It’s been a good couple of days. Lots of art and music. I feel slightly better about life. I suppose, I feel more “me”.
I managed to get another little project underway. A battery guitar amp from a cigar box. We will see how that goes.
Here’s a slow motion of me saying, “Fuck off! you Cunt!”, whilst in my car.
I don’t know why. It’s just the way the day panned out.
The final word is,……it’s been a non-emotional week. Which is good for me. No crying over Tena pants adverts. No heavy arguments. Nothing.
Oh wait. I did cry at Waterloo station the other morning but that was just because Love Reign O’er Me by The Who shuffled on. It gets me every time.
Good weather, good gin, good grass.
Oh. And some ginger prince got married to some American bird.