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I Need to Expose Myself

I’m still not in the greatest of moods. This ‘government scheme’ business is a big factor (hey, our government does nothing but scheme!). On balance, since the house move is so near now, I think I’m inclined to just opt out of the system. £50-odd a week isn’t nearly enough to justify the degree of control they can exert upon me.

So, I’m available for work! Presently, I’m collecting together a few decent writing samples and making a Web site for offering Web design services. I can write. I can do Web pages. Someone out there must have a use for me.

Now, about this Web site… considering the poor degree of link exposure I have, the traffic’s not so bad. But, you know, I’ve worked pretty hard on this site—I reckon it’s one of the better-designed blogs out there, and while some of the content might be considered boring, the same goes for every single blog I’ve ever read. This blog’s as good as anyone else’s, dammit.
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Going, Going, Gone!

I guess it’s time for the latest, highly entertaining house move news. *sigh* We found out (yesterday) that the flat’s already been sold. In fact, it was already sold, bar the formalities, prior to Monday when mom went to see it… shame the estate agents didn’t bother mentioning this and saving her a journey. They were very apologetic, but it’s quite shabby. I won’t mention which estate agents it was, though.
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The New Real Deal

Countdown to war. What a surprise that Saddam showed no interest in the Bush ultimatum. This is really the kind of ‘history’ I have no desire to live through… but who gets to choose?

My Jobcentre appointment today didn’t go that badly, really, in spite of my being awfully uncooperative.
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Comic Relief

I’ve rather annoyingly got interested in that Comic Relief Does Fame Academy thing. Generally, anything to do with Comic Relief is anathema to me—this has nothing to do with the cause, which is terrific, so much as the second-rate standard of the shows. But there has been a compelling, macabre kind of fascination generated by Ruby Wax’s performances, and Kwame (the black bloke out of Casualty) has a damn fine voice, actually. He looks damn fine too. You won’t get great odds on him being the winner.

The Comic Relief night itself looks to be the typical banal lineup. Lenny Henry doing Michael Jackson, presumably on serious steroids, promises to be as funny as herpes. The Martin Bashir interview literally defies parody, in any case.
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Too Much Analysis

I’ve been thinking about human interaction a bit. Bad idea. Thinking usually ends up troubling me.

Sometimes, it seems to me that a lot of human interaction is bullshit. You pretend to feel better than you really do whenever possible, pretend to be more interesting than you think you really are, and generally ‘sell’ yourself. I’m absolutely useless at doing this. You’d think, understanding the theory, I might not be quite so pathetic at it—then again, part of the problem is understanding it, because then you start to question its futility or dishonesty and open another massive can of worms. Oboy. Too much time on my hands = too much analysis.

Work situation… a brief rant…
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Getting a Life, Maybe

Yesterday was beyond dull, and I could not even invent anything remotely interesting to say about it. Which of course beggars the question, why am I even mentioning it?

Today has been a bit more interesting in a typically dull to anyone but myself kind of way. The guy from Telewest came to install my phone line in the flat this morning—I was given the times 8:00am-12:00pm, but quite contrary to any expected last-minute arrival, he turned up at 10:30, and was done in five minutes. All seems to be working fine, so that’s another thing sorted out.
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