Train Track

Hi. Remember me?

Yes, I used to write frequent posts here. Lately, they've been less frequent, and more infrequent. Not a good combination.

I've had a busy couple of weeks in terms of work and travel. By which I mean one full five-day week and one pleasant weekend by the sea. Now I know what it must be like to be a Wall Street Big Cheese Apple.

There has also been the terrible burden of beautiful weather, which has required lying in the park, drinking Pimms, and generally loafing in my pants.

Wait, that sounded wrong. I meant general lazing whilst wearing pants. Nothing untoward there.

But I'll try to increase my post count from now on. This is only my sixth post this month, and time is running out. I haven't written fewer than ten posts in a month since last August. And we all remember what happened then.

(We don't really. Nothing happened. Unless it did.)

I'm currently sitting on my sofa, with my large fan (Big Dave) cooling me, listening to Credence Clearwater Revival's version of I Heard It Through the Grapevine.

Which all sounds very pleasant. Except I don't feel very relaxed. I feel like there are lots of little worries poking me with sharpened guns. I'm not sure why.

I've felt a bit tense lately. Maybe I should try some homemade acupuncture, or grow my own Zen cardigan.

I had two days of training for a new computer system at work last week, and I think it has damaged my subconscious. I keep dreaming in a meeting format.

The main things I learned during the meetings were how to make noises that are vaguely approving yet nonspecific, and the ability to disguise my utter horror at being asked a question in the middle of a daydream.

It's more difficult than you might think, but I'm pretty good at it now. I manipulate my facial muscles into a facsimile of understanding and warmth ("Mm-hm. Yep. OK, that sounds fine."), when in reality I'm devastated ("OH GOD! OH JESUS, NO! I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING! I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!")

And that's what it's like. I'm like that new prisoner at the beginning of The Shawshank Redemption, crying and explaining that I don't belong; that there's been some mistake, and I end up getting beaten to death by the wardens.

Well OK, it's not exactly like that.

I'm not complaining.

I mean, I am. But they're not genuine complaints. I'm just caught between minor inconveniences that weigh on me more than they should, and a heaven world of sunshine and luxury.

But then, self-doubt and internal battles are probably part and parcel (whatever that means) of an appealing person. People who aren't crippled by introspective angst are probably too insensitive to have a deep conversation; even though they're the people most likely to start one.

Speaking of angst, here's the delightful Jeffrey Lewis, with a song on similar themes. At least I'm not that bad.



***

I'm looking forward to the World Cup. More than is rational.

Annoyingly I'll be working, so won't be able to watch all the matches. In 2006 I took off the period of the whole tournament between temp jobs, and watched everything. It was awesome. (Except for England's terribleness, of course).

But it will still be great. I love following new countries, learning about new players, and getting embroiled in all the thousands of stories that occur simultaneously.

I will also enjoy drinking cold beer. I don't really drink (though my current Pimms phase may belie that), and don't really like any alcohol that much. But there's something glorious about a cold beer on a summer day. It's more the associations it conjures, rather than the beverage itself.

But this summer, I'll drink a frosty one (beer, not Tony the Tiger), watch football in the sun, and it will be great. Until England play, when it will become excruciating.

***

I think there are too many things going on in my brain. That might be why I can't relax (and might be why this post has been so unfocused).

I should try to concentrate on one thing at a time.

(I genuinely stopped in the middle of that sentence - after the 'th-' of 'thing' to be precise - to put my music back on. How amusing).

Hey, Graham Coxon. He's good.

Where was I?

I've just done a quick search, and the term 'Where was I?' has brought up over twenty blog posts (probably more than that, but I got bored checking).

I think that says a lot about my lack of focus. I should try to come up with a new way of expressing a desire to get back on track.

How about RUNAWAY TRAIN (because of the track connection)?

I'll try to do that. Instead of 'Where was I?', I'll just type RUNAWAY TRAIN, then get back on the horse (mixed metaphors are my bread and buttersidedownstreamwithoutapaddle).

Ooh, Roots Manuva just came on. Good track.

RUNAWAY TRAIN.

I should probably stop here. That way, if I think of anything else I can add it as a new post, increasing May's count. If I don't make it to ten posts this month, I'll feel just like I did last August.

Remember?

There's nothing to remember.