:: Devukha Sorry For Himself ::

If only I'd been out carousing last night, I would be able to have something to blame for my lamentable state of being today. The times when I've said this to colleagues have now become so numerous that even I'm beginning to believe it. Following a glass of wine with dinner, I dozed of in front of the delightful Monday night comedy slot on BBC2. Can't be arsed to write full reviews but Anglian Lives (profiling Alan Partridge) was good and Double Take was excellent.

Went to bed at 11pm, fell asleep, woke up and felt OK. Another Lovely Day, you might think. But no, today is payday:

- Today I was able to travel legally on public transport for the first time in two weeks. In the meantime, I've been getting a range of buses to work, each time flashing my out-of-date pass defiantly at the driver. I only got caught once.
- Today I was able to saunter to work after my train ride to London Bridge and pick up a roll and four pieces of fruit for breakfast.
- Today I was able to reflect that, having eaten not much more than rice for the past 2 weeks, I've lost half a stone (and of course I "plan to keep it up and might even join a Gym..." Fuck off.
- Today I was able to buy a moderately expensive bunch of flowers online to be delivered to my mother on Sunday.
- Today I was able to look the cashpoint in the face and scream "Give it to me, baby!"

...and despite these hefty mitigating factors, I feel fluey and shite, only just managing to force down the fresh fruit and a vitamin C pill to fend of the lurgie. I made the world's most horrible cup of tea this afternoon. It appeared to consist of four subtly different types of shit, "carefully crafted for your pleasure". God bless London Water!

And of course it gets better. Although Bezuhoff was complaining via AIM this afternoon that his life was one of unalloyed tedium, he retracted that statement when I revealed my plans for this evening: A big trip round Sainsbury's. And that's it.

The moral of last night's moderate behaviour is that I only have a good time when I get smashed - and that I enjoy the following day better too (c.f. Flash's party last week). So my trip round Sainsbugger's will ajourn to the mixers aisle for gallons of tonic water. On returning home I shall do my utmost to destroy the litre bottle of gin bought duty free coming back from New York.

Thanks for listening. I'm sure you're all dying to hear what happens to me tomorrow. Please tell these guys if you care:

EDIT: Have now slightly recovered. Saw this, which cheered me up no end...