Thursday, June 29, 2006

mo money- mo arse!

Despite my best intentions not to accelerate my decent into a miserable old c**t, I’m afraid that recent events have left me with little choice. My main point of angst of unhappiness is the fact that after spending the best part of three weeks without a penny to my name, I was paid on the 15th of this month. I was temporarily happy and relieved that after what was a torturous few weeks I was back on top. Alas, this joy was short lived after a pre cautionary check on my funds with my friendly bank who took great pleasure telling me that after this month’s rent I’ll be left with £20 until the 15th of next month. Great. Not even a week gone and I’m flat broke…again.

Checking my account I’ve spent over £800 on bills etc- and alarmingly £145 on my mobile. I assumed, nay, hoped this was an error and that a phone call to my phone provider would straighten out this oversight. After waiting on hold for the best part of 15 minutes a cheerful girl asked how she could help me. I calmly explained my predicament to her. She checked my account and asked if I’d been abroad recently? Damn it- BLOODY GERMANY! I’d spent a small fortune receiving phone calls and call my nearest and dearest. She asked if there was anything else she could do and I asked if she could lend me £145. She laughed and politely declined my suggestion. Of course after the mix up with the bank last month when I forked out £96 for my ridiculously expensive 6 month’s worth of car Tax, I was already over my £1.5K over draft by £100- plus the two £30 fines they issued me.

To make matters worse it’s my father’s birthday next week, I’m going on holiday next month and I’m supposed to go to Scarborough at the weekend for my auntie’s 50th- once again I’ll no doubt have to survive on my credit card. Right now, I just want to stay in the house drinking tap water and wait for the 15th. As much as it pains me to say- I think I’m going to bite the preverbal bullet and have to sell/get rid of my car. After all, I managed to survive without a car for 7 years; it just makes life easier now especially when going further a field that this crap hole city. Of course I’m positive that I would have got more money for it if it wasn’t for my newly acquired dent when a big bastard skip jumped out at me whilst reversing last weekend.

I know money isn’t supposed to make you happy, and invariably I never had any- although I genuinely had more money when I was a student- but it would be nice to be able to buy a CD every now and then or perhaps find the funds to get my damned haircut, get more contact lenses or even dare I say perhaps purchase some new jeans/shoes as the ones I’ve got are both on their last legs. I’ve only bought two items of clothing this year. 1. A jumper in Jan sales and 2. A Buck 65 T Shirt at the gig in May, which in all fairness is more than I’d usually buy in a year! Perhaps this folly into being a clothes’ horse has proved to be my un-doing.

I’m going to have to broach the idea of getting shot of the car and/or getting a part-time job with Lisa tonight, but with the exception of the last few weeks she doesn’t see that much of me ‘cause of band commitments so I’m sure this plan will go down like a lead balloon.

On a plus note though, I’ve continued my thinly veiled attempts of getting fit now for over three weeks which is two weeks longer than I usually can stomach. I’ve gone through this exercise malarkey many times before throughout my life. Usually it consumes my life totally for about two weeks, then sacking it off. I would like to say that 15K on an exercise bike a day and the repetitive cycling around Sefton Park have improved my disposition and my waistline. However neither has. I’ve resorted to desperate measures now and have cut cheese out of my diet and given up drinking anything other than water in the evening, which other than making me piss like a racehorse has done very little to my general disposition. With the potential loss of my car it may be the excuse I need to cycle to work- it’s only 6ish miles- it’s the sweat factor that has put me off. When/if I get myself healthy I can perhaps sell some body organs then but a new car?

What about a different career- the usual suggestion I receive from those around me when they see me despondent with my financial situation? Despite studying hard (or moderately hard) at School/6th Form/College/University I’m sadly coming round to the idea that Office Dog’s body is the fitting station in life for me- after all I did such a good job scraping tip-ex off the fax machine the other day that I must have endeared myself to the upper echelons of the Council’s hierarchy. I only went to University in order that I didn’t get an office job, but have been kidding myself that being in a band made everything okay and I have now mortgaged my future by doing so. Ho hum. I think my next plan of attack is to follow my real dream and become a professional Kick Off 2 player, showcasing my skill around schools and hospitals and taking part in the international Amiga Computer Games Tournament failing that I’m sure I’d make a great soldier….the question is how do I get in touch with the Taliban?

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