Hey folks. By the time you read this I will be…
Hands up who thought I was going to say DEAD?
No… I will be very much alive, but Amki is visiting this weekend, so I’m writing this on Wednesday. I have a very busy day today so this will have to be a quick one.
There are a couple of things that I have been doing far too much of lately, and things have got to change. I’m not entirely sure how I’m going to implement this change, but here they are anyway:
Ordinarily I’m an optimist. It doesn’t matter what goes wrong… after a few minutes of panic I can always find the bright side. In a somewhat contradictory manner however, this usually only applies to things that have already gone wrong. Once the sky falls on my head, I’m the first to say “Never mind, at least when it rains from now on, only my shoes will get wet!”, but until that actually happens I’m always the one most worried that it’s going to.
The other problem I have found with being an optimist, is that when your optimism finally does fail you, it does so in spectacular “Battlefield Earth” fashion.
The other day, I made someone I love very much cry; something I promised myself I would never do. It wasn’t out of malice, and it wasn’t something I did wrong, it was simply my appearance that did it. Now, you’re perfectly entitled to think that is a less than ideal basis for a stable relationship, but allow me to explain. I was simply very upset. Things hadn’t been going all that well back here at home, and I had become so miserable and depressed that even she could no longer lift me out of my melancholy. She was simply upset to see me upset, which is very sweet but it did give me the kick in the pants I needed to get a grip and stop whining like a baby.
This is quite funny from time to time. Farnsworth is especially funny when drunk. Like something from a really bad sitcom, he comes staggering (quite literally) back into the flat, carrying something from his epic journey home; anything from potted plants and complete strangers, to roadwork signs and leaflets for tractor insurance (true stories all). Four hours of comatose slumber later, he wakes up sober as the day he was born, and just as clueless as to why everything has been squishy, dark and distressing for the last few hours.
After a while though, being the only person in the room who is always sober gets to be about as much fun as Five Finger Fillet with Wolverine. If I was a teetotaller, I would have no right to complain about this, but it is more about being the only person with no money, and the only one with a driving licence.
On Thursday night Amki will finally get to meet all of the Sleepless Knight crew, and “Throwing her in at the deep end” is simply not a scary enough analogy for what will surely prove to be, at the very least, an unpredictable experience. At any rate, I will be driving once again, so whatever terrible events transpire I may be the only reliable witness when the Police/FBI/DEA/RSPB/RSPCA turn up to ensure that we are never all in the same place at the same time again. Incidentally, this will all have happened already by the time you get to read this, which is another good reason to write it now, because they may not have reliable internet connection on whatever planet I am exiled to.
I was going to write a lot more, but I really have run out of time. When Amki returns to Sweden next week I will be going back with her but I promise to make a concerted effort to write from wherever I am; assuming I’m still alive and my hands are still where I left them.
Whenever I write next, there will surely be an update on who’s still alive and who’s not. Until then, enjoy your week and don’t bend over for the soap.
I’m going now.