I really am some kind of a prick. I hate myself and if I could divorce myself and get out of here I absolutely would. You only have to cope with a few blogs and podcasts. I am stuck in here all the time and I am fed up with my self-sabotaging idiocy. The real me wants to get on with my work and get it done in good time, but the other me that I am shackled to is determined to make life as uncomfortable and unpleasant for me as he can. Years ago we worked in
harmony, but familiarity breeds contempt and now the other part of me can only be happy if he's making my life miserable. Are our lives a marriage between the left and right hand side of our brains or between our conscious and unconscious sides and like most marriages does harmony and joy shift to torpor and mutual hatred.
Whatever the truth I am annoying myself, so Christ knows what you think. I could easily have taken some pressure off and made even a little progress on tomorrow's AIOTM
, but I deliberately want to make it difficult for myself. I remind myself of Thomas A Beckett, ostentatiously making my suffering as great as possible and wearing a hair shirt under my clothes to make my pain secretly the greater. Thomas a Beckett was a massive tool. And look how he ended up.
I am only messing with you. But I am frustrated with my own desire to seemingly leave the script later and later every week. Though perhaps I should cut myself some slack as I am mightily tired from over work as it is, but then it's not going to help things that I have to get up at 6.30 tomorrow morning to get things back on track.
I actually hope I get my comeuppance, but as usual I will probably bluff my way out of it as usual. I'd love to see this Richard Herring taken down a peg or two.
I was all set to do some work this evening, but instead got distracted by watching National Lampoon's European Vacation, which shows how much I wanted to be distracted as this is a terrible, terrible film. Yet I was prepared to take on anything that wasn't work. Still if the teenage me is reading this there's a good bit where Rusty gets off with a German girl and you see her breasts. Ah, what times of innocence where naked breasts would have been enough for me!
Then I thought I should watch the BAFTAs in case it gave me any ideas for the show. But it just made me a bit more depressed. Another year gone by and another year without the first B of my COBNOB. The doors of the citidel are firmly locked and I am never going to be let in. I should be pleased at my outsider status and not to be part of this cliquey backslapping. But it's hard not to compare and contrast with my contemporaries and whilst it was fun to see how upset they all were by "The Only Way Is Essex" joining their exclusive club, it was mainly a depressing experience. And yet I would feel just as disappointed with myself if I was excepted in that room and part of the self-congratulation. I will never be happy. I will put my hair shirt on now.
I also totted up the final money from the Christ on a Bike SCOPE collection and it comes in at an amazing £41,255.79 (plus gift aid). Some of that money goes towards the cost of printing the programmes, but it's still a profit for SCOPE of over £35,000. Thanks so much if you gave any of that money. It will make an enormous difference. I am genuinely touched by your amazing generosity. But let's try and beat that total next year. Donate on the new page - let's try and top £50K.
