Well, the state of my guts this morning indicates that there was an interaction with Newcastle Brown ale and vodka chasers last night. That black shit has never agreed with me, I'd do well to remember that. I also appear to be out of beer at home as well. Packaging on the floor suggests kebab procurement, they're not good either. Don't remember getting home but I clearly did. I do recall sarcastic comments about my "matrix coat" but the lack of abrasions on my knuckles suggests that my intention to find a codhead to fight was unsucessful. Good job that, I'd not have been pleased with myself if that had transpired. In fact, I remember watching eight plod leap on some poor sucker and considering it a spectator event.

So this morning it's playing mp3's of old 80's songs and drinking foul ginseng tea. I can honestly say life's been better. I can't get used to referring to my former partner as my ex. The term doesn't suit her. That puts her in the same category as all those other women that have screwed with my head and generally helped make me the messed up scamp I am in late 2006, and for which she's suffered my moodiness. Anyway, enough of that sort of thing; no names, no pack drill, no details - love and respect are still the orders of the day, and our laundry ain't public. Hey ho.

There's a million jobs to do that up to this moment I've been raring to deal with. As I stepped through the door last night, I was hit around the head by a years worth of paranoia, unpleasantness and just how much I've screwed up my own life. Not nice. The last week's been manic and hypermotivated, incredible amounts of things that have been waiting forever have been sorted and tidied out of the way. Today though, be it the beer or whatever, I just can't get started.