But - I get the feeling that I ended up doing a bunch of things last week, and started working through my list and everything was groovy. I visited my dad - and I'd been putting that off, scared of what he'd think having read my book (there's negative stuff about him in there, plus all the really personal and revealing stuff) - but it was all good and all he really said was, 'I'm proud of you, son,' and, 'I understand why you'd think that way.' I don't give him half the credit he deserves sometimes. Also I...well I don't know what: everything seems to have disintegrated with this weekend just gone, old buddies coming up to visit, dinner with friends, lots of Pong and then lots and lots of sex after that, and all of a sudden it's Tuesday, I've had no sleep, and I wonder where I am, what is this thing called life, oh yeah, planet Earth, let's start to put it all back together once again - so I write a blog and remind myself of who I am and what I'm supposed to be doing and we can make a start again.
What we're supposed to be doing. All this doing doing doing!
How easy it is to forget. And - I hope I haven't got that lady pregnant. Although, if I have - it's all meant to be, right? And I'll do the right thing by her.
Did I ever mention that I've applied to do a PGCE again? What am I thinking! And yet - I can't get it out of my head. I think a lot about a career - my lack of career - and I wonder about my income and how I will support people and buy a house and live in my old age when my looks start to fade and I can't just hitchhike everywhere and crash on couches. And then I think of writing and trying to make that work, and hopefully making some money from it but it so often seems so unlikely. And then I think of artists and writers and composers dying in paupers' graves and then people saying later, wow, they were really cool, weren't they? And then I see myself sort of driven and consumed by the need to write and create but also mostly sort of driven by procrastination and internet-computer-waste-time-waste and wonder if I really have anything anyway or maybe I'm just mad. And then I kick a football and wear an envelope on my head and play some songs and that seems like fun. I wish I was a nicer person - funnier - thought less - but then isn't it weird that people respond to me in the way they do (mostly overwhelmingly positive) but of course we shouldn't take that as a gauge for anything. And then there I go again, thinking some more. Probably five days since I worked on Mikey's blog what with all the business and socialising and sex and I suppose I ought to get back to that and my list.
But what about Kent! Because it feels like only when I get my base can I start to put together my life - regulation sleeping, squash and football and proper eating and work - and so I suppose I ought to work on that otherwise I'll be in this basement forever until one day someone says, hey man, you don't live here and I go wondering off into a bin and with fingerless gloves stare into the leafless trees and wonder where life is and how come I got born without anyone telling me what to do.
1. Kent (or elsewhere; no, I've done I Ching, now just do what I Ching said)
2. Work
3. Leave Leeds!
4. Open a badger sanctuary
5. I've started up my really complex gambling system again. Is that a good idea? Fortunately I'm doing it with 10p bets.
6. My mum says, 'call me if you want to see me, I work about ten minutes from where you are.' I say - well, I say nothing - but I think, 'no, you call me, I'm honestly not that bothered about seeing you - although I will of course always say yes and be happy to feel wanted by you, and be nice and smile and fun.'
7. I think about buying a car. And being almost 90% legal with it.
8. Interview with Bath Spa University next month about doing a PGCE there.
9. Pointless blog entries!
10. One more book idea: A Billion And One Things To Do Before You Die
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