Extremely boring days. Almost nothing seems to be working out. Got my salary, which is the only reason that has brought upon a smile in the emptiness-feeling. Have two good books in my bag, but need a better day to lie back and read. The old man gifted me with an I-Pod day before, I think he's happy with me despite my reclusive antics. He's actually a very cool guy, I would have got along much better if he was just a bookseller in the bookshop at the corner.
The office suck-up is doing okay, and better at what he performs the best. The ed seems as though she knows the guy is weird but is happy cause he is over-enthu about every sad story he thinks about and even more about others. Sometimes he even calls you and asks if you're giving the story or not, or how its figuring out -- worst when it doesn't even concern him.
Met the lit gang last evening, bumped into them at the Edward Luce book launch. Chased a couple of beers, met all the good people and split to catch the Metro to the other end of town. At Granny's had a good dinner, chilled with my cousins (who have a brilliant flat to themselves, next to the house) -- watched some of the Simpsons on their DVD and slept. Had a fucking horrible nightmare (something quite common in childhood) on snakes.
Apart from all that, its the same ole misery. The days are gong slow, nights twice as fast. Still waiting to get paid by Roli, I think Mr Rock n' Roll Circus' warning is coming true.
Will just have to wait.