Twenty Eighth of February, where the fuck is the time going?
Tomorrow will be March. Month three, a quarter of the way through the year. Well fuck me gently, time surely flies whether you're having fun or not.
I got the first coat of paint on the walls and ceiling in the office tonight. It's all Magnolia, but that's not too bad. It looks a bit orangey at the moment but I'm sure it will calm down a bit when it dries. Put another coat on tomorrow, maybe do a bit of glossing and, bish bosh, ready for the furniture.
Liz has 'The Biggest Loser' on the tele and I don't get it. Some bloke, Paddy, has just lost 31% of his starting body weight, and he is the winning runner up. All the others still look fat. OK they have lost a lot of weight and all that, they all look better, but Paddy looked like a normal bloke. I know fat people are normal, but you know what I mean. So what I don't get is this. No-one is going to lose more weight than Paddy. I don't think they will anyhoo. Maybe I'll be proved wrong in the next fifteen minutes, but I don't fucking think so. So how come he is only the best runner-up?
If I'm wrong then I'll eat a big chocolate cake.
Got an appointment with the bank on Tuesday next week. That's Tuesday 8th March. I hope they don't turn me down, seeing how I will no longer be employed the following week and will need to use the business account. Nothing like cutting it fine eh? Still, if they turn me down I'll just threaten them will negative publicity on my world famous blog.
As if that'll make a blind bit of difference.
Nine days left at work, you would think I would be winding down wouldn't you? Eight while six today, probably the same tomorrow and the rest of the week. Wind down, my arse. Wind up more like.
OK, I'll a big fucking piece of chocolate cake with my bastard hat on top. The hat I'll take off to Will. He has lost 34% of his original body weight.
Still looks a bit porky though.............