If I see that error message again, I might actually cry. I've spent two weeks trying to stop it with no success because I just haven't got the time to delve into it properly.
I would normally say thank fuck it's Friday but all that means is another evening contemplating my mind state. I got some strings for the Westfield Strat but wasn't able to summon up the energy to put them on it.
It occurred to me while having a Yorkie for breakfast that my inability to stick to exercise and relapse into eating shit food is perhaps some form of subsconscious self punishment. There must be some reason why I can't do it. Perhaps that's why I always drive shit cars too, because deep down I don't feel I deserve anything better and why I manage to fuck up my finances all the time. It's a curious feeling to realise your mental state might not be as normal or as stable as you thought.
Put a bunch of old Game Boy stuff on Ebay and got £26 for it. Oh well, gets it out of the house at least. Plenty more to go on there when I can get the energy to do it. I think I need an impartial observer to come up and go through all the shite I've got and make me get rid of it all. That bit in Fight Club where Tyler Durden says that the the things you own, own you, keeps cropping up in my head. I think it's got to the point where it would actually be easier to take the stuff I need out of the house and trash anything left behind and then put it back.
Fooled around in Saints Row 2 for lack of anything better to do and found that while making your character into a big fat transvestite or drag queen makes the cut-scenes amusing, somehow a respectable businessman in a suit is much funnier for some reason. Especially with the pimp cane shotgun.
Rob lent me a Kasabian album which I hadn't heard. Very good stuff.
Feeling catastrophically tired, but at the same time I don't think I'm going to sleep easily.
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