Monday Musings. 24/8/15

The week has started badly. This morning I had to weigh up whether to use my remaining £3 for bus fare to work or lunch. The day (ten days) before payday is always tough. I thought this would have stopped happening by now but to be honest, I’m sure that even if I was earning £50k a year, I would still find myself in the same position come the 20th of every month. I’d just be rummaging for coins in the pockets of more expensive jeans. I opted to go for food which meant I had to cycle to work, which I am pleased about now as I’m peckish.
 
 Riding a bike with flat tyres on a drizzly morning, mostly uphill was not appealing at all though and I hated every minute of it, especially the bit when two elderly blokes glided past me as I was huffing and puffing my way up a hill. 
 
 “Good morning!” 
 
 “Is it?”
 
 In my defence, they were on slick road bikes while my rusty, kind-of mountain bike squeaks and clicks with every pedal and is sadly falling to pieces.
 
 Today’s ride was made trickier as I am still not fully recovered from being ill last week. I was nearly there but after an enjoyable weekend of drastically unhealthy living, the immune system has taken another pounding. I was so ill in fact that I had to call in sick for work last Thursday. I’d woken up shivering, sweating, nose completely blocked and with an unbelievably bad headache. A cold. Until you get one, you forget just how bad a heavy cold is. I couldn’t muster the energy to get out of bed which confirmed that I was clearly unfit for work.
 
 Even if it is genuine, calling in sick is still nothing short of terrifying. Despite feeling terrible and genuinely sounding hoarse, I felt the need to emphasize my illness far too much resulting in completely overdoing the feeble voice, chucking in a couple of fake coughs alongside the legitimate ones for good measure. Paranoid, I began to fear that the receptionist might smell a rat and assume that I had either drank too much the night before or was perhaps planning on a daytrip to Lightwater Valley.
 
 The relief at the end of the call was immeasurable but outweighed by just how shit I was feeling. It wasn’t helped by the fact that we were completely out of Lemsip and parecetamol. I don’t think I have ever before braved a cold without any medication. It’s awful. My head felt like a bag of daggers. I managed to crawl out of bed and on to the sofa in time to catch the remaining half an hour of the Wright Stuff, which I always enjoy. A comforting reminder of my ‘between jobs’ days. By 12.30, I had managed to find my range in terms of chucking tissues into the bin from my sofa, confidently mixing things up with lofted and driven shots, but was still feeling no better and decided that I would have to go to the shop. After Loose Women was the plan but unfortunately it wasn’t on. Why not? I thought Loose Women was always on? I had been looking forward to hearing Jamelia’s insight.
 
 After managing to make it to the shop and back without dying and thankfully not bumping into anyone I recognized, I took some Anadin and a Berocca which finally began to perk me up a bit and the banging in my head began to cease. This put me in a decent position. Not feeling too terrible but definitely not able to do anything productive. And definitely not at work. A guiltless afternoon spent lying down on the sofa. Perhaps tweak my Fantasy Football team?
 
 I spent a nostalgic hour looking through some old material that I had culled from my book (I have written a book by the way) which was quite weird. There was a lot of stuff that I don’t remember writing at all and while some of it was utterly awful, there were a few bits that were decent so I am unsure why they got the chop. I’ll probably try and shoehorn these bits into my next book. Is that on? For those of you that have read the book, Troy was originally going to be a short, chubby guy called Tom and Sander was called Nicklas. I changed that because I was clearly basing the character quite substantially on Nicklas Bendtner.
 
 I decided to watch an episode of the Office on Netflix. Although I know pretty much every line, I still find it very difficult to watch just one episode and predictably ended up watching the whole of the first series for around the fifteenth time. My lack of imagination in watching the Office again instead of something new got me thinking; my interests in life really haven’t changed at all in the last ten years. I still watch the same TV shows / films, listen to the same sort of music, enjoy drinking lager and spend too much time watching or reading about football. I still enjoy knocking around with Louise and I’m still partial to acting like a prat with my friends. 
 
 There is the theory that once you are twenty five, that is it. The personality that you have at twenty five is what you are stuck with forever more. That is who you are. I would argue that this happened to me a bit earlier, possibly twenty? Hopefully I am a bit less of a dickhead now (for a regrettable spell at university I had spiked sideburns) but in terms of hobbies, lifestyle, personality traits et cetera, I don’t feel there is much difference. I suppose I don’t really go to nightclubs anymore but I sometimes question whether I ever enjoyed nightclubs. I don’t particularly miss criminally expensive drinks, topless barmen, being unable to have a conversation or nervously dancing near but not ‘with’ girls. I’ve had a number of unsuccessful attempts at doing new things in the last few years such as going to Salsa classes, Yoga, Chinese lessons etc. but ultimately, nothing has stuck. My problem with trying new things it is highly likely you won’t be very good at them to begin with and who enjoys doing things that they’re not good at?
 
 With that said, I am currently training for a marathon which is kind of a new hobby I suppose. The kind of hobby that you don’t enjoy at all. That is my issue with running. It’s just not fun. You never see runners with a smile on their face do you? I won’t go into any kind of details about a training plan as I am aware that nobody cares but it is safe to say, fitness-wise I am roughly a million miles away from where I need to be. I am going to try and run on a treadmill this evening but running without actually getting anywhere is even more boring that running outside. Time on a treadmill goes so incredibly slowly. If ever you worry that time is going too quickly or that life is passing you by, just spend half an hour on a treadmill. It lasts well over an hour. 
 
 I also need to think about getting sponsors and setting up a Just Giving page or whatever it is you do. I need to decide on a charity first. One that means something to me I suppose. Is there a hay fever one? Of course making money for charities is a nice thing to do but in recent years, things have got a bit ridiculous. Should you sponsor someone for a 5K run when they openly admit that they might not even run the whole thing? If you sponsor them, then you definitely have to sponsor someone who runs a marathon don’t you? Then what about an Iron Man? I will happily sponsor people a few quid but when there are three fundraisers coming into the office in one day then surely something has to give? It’s all about finding the balance between not appearing stingy and not bankrupting yourself. Perhaps if I had managed this balancing act more effectively, I would not have had to decide between getting the bus or having money for a sandwich this morning?