Entering The Last Week Of The Angry Jogger Indiegogo Campaign. Quick Thank You To Contributors.

Good news!

I’ve recovered from my fall on Sunday.

I didn’t sleep that well on Sunday night as my side was bruised, scraped and cut so rolling over was quite sore but other than that nothing in broken.

I’ve been sleeping in a shared room and the last thing I wanted to do was to start moaning in the middle of the night. They’d have heard my accent and known exactly what I was up to.

Anyway back on to today’s post.

Thanks to the new Indiegogo contributors!

Jason C, Elizabeth L, Janine B, James A, Steve C and Dr Neil L.

Your pledges are very much appreciated! If you haven’t contributed and want to take advantage of some special perks you can pledge over on the campaign page.

The book is coming along well but I’m going through a phase where everything I write seems like shit and I’m doubting myself too much.

I’m just trying to get all of it out now and I am worrying about editing it later.

At the minute I’m writing a lot of it on my tablet in various train stations and dive bars throughout London’s West End.

I was hoping that new surroundings would bring forth new ideas and they have to an extent but it still doesn’t disguise the fact that I can’t write that well.

It seems like I’ve still so far to go but it will be OK. Worrying about the book doesn’t get it written.

I think my only regret about the Indiegogo campaign was setting the target a little too high. I’ve been delighted with the response from everyone and am only sad that I didn’t set it to £1,000 instead.

I couldn’t have asked for anymore really in terms of support from you guys so thanks very much.

Yesterday was a much better day than Sunday

I was tired as hell so I struggled around London in a complete haze.

I spent 8 hours walking in random directions and boarding trains back and forth not particularly caring where I was headed.

I largely avoided any mishaps apart from nearly missing the cut off point to collect my laundry and having the same laundry bag rip as I was walking around the back streets of Soho.

I was not the first nor the last man to have suffered from the inconveniences of a ripped bag in London’s West End.

I love flitting between stations aimlessly but with freedom.

I haven’t grown weary of this great big smoking shit ball that they call London.

They say that familiarity breeds contempt and I think that was the case with back home.

At least here most things are still new to me.

If I get sick of an area in London I can get the tube to the next place. It’s like being able to change the channel. You can’t do that in somewhere as small as Northern Ireland. You feel trapped and claustrophobic.

I started resenting everyone and everything including myself for not having the guts to make the big move.

I’m over here now and that’s all that matters. I’m gonna go out soon on a run try to stay upright this time!