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Rage

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Back on the train to Devon, rage in my heart, pyschotic mind-numbing, all encompassing fury. A friendly national rail employee takes a moment to help me out and all of a sudden I can feel myself changing back into Dr.Banner again.

If you're not familiar with my experience with the flooding over Christmas, its only a couple of posts back. I forget what I talk to people about and what I have blogged. Last time a friendly person helped me out, they saved me a long journey to nowhere and gave me a form to reclaim the train fare for the train I missed that had been cancelled. I sent the form off and got a nice letter apologising with a little voucher for half of the fare. Which was around fifty pounds. Recent events, I've been waiting to get paid for what feels like ages and I finally got my wages today. I topped up my savings, put some money into my second savings account and budgeted for the next two weeks. Got in touch with my Mum, who is moving house again, and agreed to go give her a hand with it. Save myself the inevtiable financial fallout of staying in Brighton over the weekend and cooked myself a pasta salad to save money buying lunch. All is well. The sun is out, I've got my shades on in February, passed my TMA and am into the next one, successfully managed to get back on track money wise.

So I go to my drawer, one of three drawers in my flat. Drawer one is for all of my OU related paperwork and anything to do with my tenancy, instructions manuals for cookers, that sort of thing. The second drawer is for my OU books, so that I don't misplace them. As that would make me very cross. The third and final drawer is near my sofa, it has things that I know I don't want to lose in it. It can be anything. It has the contact information for a samurai school I am thinking of joining, details of a course where you can get football badges so you can be a coach and my tiny dumbells. At the moment, I go through it once a month and either action the things I have collected or throw them away. Thats how I ended up going to comic-con and Audio but not taking up swimming. Short story long, I know, well I think I know, that when I received the train voucher it went into the drawer. The idea being that I would plan my next trip when I came across it if I hadn't already. Having done everything else I went to grab the voucher only to find it wasn't there. I spent an hour or so tearing around my place trying to find it, I can't justify how it disappeared, I either didn't do what I thought I did with it or I accidentally threw it away. Or it was actually a trick played on me by the train company and it decomposed really quickly like that papryus in the Da Vinci Code with the vinegar.

To give some context, I thought I was getting better (in terms of my sprained wrist) so I played football with a bit more, passion? Confidence? Effort, effort is really what changed. All was good, I thought I was playing well, then exactly the same thing as happened the first time happened. Someone hit a shot very hard on target and my competitive instinct took over any kind of common sense, I saved the ball by sacrificing my left hand. So, so irritating. I make saves on shots that are hit hard with my other hand, with no ill effects, I just have to wait for my other hand to fully recover and be a tiny bit careful. For context, its bad enough that I can't pull my wallet out of my pocket without wincing. The upshot was I got to play out more and get some practice, sadly when I got out of bed (to let in the electrician who had come to the wrong flat) I literally fell over because I had hurt my knee so badly. I took a bunch of painkillers yesterday, after hurting my wrist, because I was going out to play percussion and obviously just didn't notice the knee. So whilst looking for my lost ticket, which destroyed my budgeting plan, made me an hour late and my journey an hour and a half longer and ensures I spend another week eating fish finger sandwiches, I am also enduring fairly serious pain anytime I get down on my knees to desperately look under my sofa, bed, wardrobe, chest of drawers for the ticket, or lift anything up to see if it somehow materialised somewhere. I then carried my bag with all the books for this TMA, my laptop, lunch and three days clothes up the hill to the train station. Upon dragging myself to the ticket office, I Was greeted by a Polish/eastern European lady who despite being fine was not quite as informed or helpful as her colleagues often are. I enquired about a railcard, as I am a student, which is apparently something blah full time student blah needs to be stamped meh thing. Meaning I couldn't get one. Anyway, the station official directs me to this train (that I am now on) and after putting my bags away, having a fizzy lace and getting my laptop out a voice says something FCC blah need the right ticket hmm have to buy a new one anyway jazz. Mumbling in quiet fury I decided to just get off the train and take the later, longer, very crowded, Victoria train I was meant to be on. The nice fellow who was cleaning happened to hear me and instead of writing me off as an angry escaped mental patient told me I was probably alright, took me to the guard and made sure. So now I have time to complain to the interwebs!Huzzah!

My new approach to the course seems to work better than my old one, I was happy with my score on the assignment and I plan to do most of the next one over this weekend. I also need to finish this other bit of writing, read up on my djembe-playing because I am woefully out of touch after four years (Who knew if you don't practice the skill fades) and make a new budget plan. I have somewhere (I forget which safe place I put it in) a fortune cookie fortune that says if you divide your focus onto many things none of those things get done properly. So I'm trying to finish things before I start other things. Then I find I rush the things. It's a whole meshuggah.

Other than that, I have a thrilling five hour train journey, a whole bunch of notes to take and a laptop that doesn't have five hours of battery. I also just realised I left my pad at home. Wonderous.

(This is my Mums dog, our dog, Magic).

 

Heres wishing you a good weekend,
Joe

(Also, I think I have decided I prefer pancake day to valentines day).

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