Sunday 19 September 2010

three days and three goals later ...

Well, it's been three days since the news and as you can imagine, it's been slightly surreal. I'm sure all of you have woken up with a hangover and that nagging feeling that something bad happened last night. The first few moments of conscience are spent trying to fathom out exactly what went wrong ... And then it hits you and you sink deeper into the duvet as you remember exactly who you offended/hit/snogged/shagged/are lying next to.

Every time I fall asleep, I wake a few hours later and I go through that process. A muddiness of feeling, a wash of thinking and the crash of the reality, leaves me with with one crushing, overriding thought. That thought is "Bollocks".

The weekend has been full. Friday saw me venture out with my work colleagues, as they dealt with my news in the way they knew best. Alcohol. I left about 7 hours before they were done, which was probably ironically fitting. All sympathy, no shags.

Saturday was full of The Pain, which made things heavy going throughout, including not being able to eat the £30 curry that I had just ordered. I hate wasting food.

A little known fact: I recently invested my life savings into a cottage in a quiet part of the midlands. I hadn't actaully seen the property and finally got a chance to look around. It was a fucking surreal experience as I walked around this lovely little property that was 'mine' and something that I invested in for my future but, bleakly, was now beginning to look as useful as a set of golf clubs for a dolphin.

Sunday was good. The Pain hit me hard on our journey to Old Trafford but I was given a break by the time we got there and saw one of the best games of football I could have wished for, including a contender for 'goal of the season' right in front of our eyes. Bless you Berbatov, you made my day unforgettable.

So, I'm home again. The rest of the world prepares for another week at work. I have no idea what the fuck I am doing. All points of references are dissolving. These are the strangest days. Slowly, slowly, slowly, the reality seeps in.

More reality tomorrow.

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