Made It Back To London.
Sorry this is 2 hours late. My sleep is resetting.
I made it to London but my suitcase nearly did not. It lost a wheel at Temple Meads in Bristol and I had to carry it from then on which was no fun.
Then i got the worst Uber driver ever from Paddington. He did not offer to help with the luggage even when he seen me struggling to open his shitty boot. Then as I got in he closed the door on my head and spent the entire journey muttering nonsense and being aggressive to other drivers. He was driving a car which can detect speed limits and he kept exceeding it and swearing back at the robot lady. He has a 4.9 rating on Uber. How fucking forgiving are Londoners? I gave him 5. I was close to pissing myself laughing at how fucking mad he was. It was beautiful. Kinda wish Id taken his passenger door off as a souvenir. Keep the change you cunt.
Its great to be back in London. It feels like home even if I dont technically live here. I can lead a normal life here where my everyday success is based on how hard I work.
I’m back living in a Travelodge again. I have spent 180 nights in one this year. I am halfway to being Alan Partridge. This one is great apart from one small issue.
I was thinking about my first Airbnb where my travel writer host made me sit down at his table and told me in no uncertain terms that it was gonna be difficult for me to find work in London. This was a man who was slightly nonplussed when I refused his repeated offers of Cornflakes for breakfast. I want to fight him now with fists deep inside Crunchy Nut Cornflakes to show him what aspiration feels like. I am making it. Slowly. You don’t have to live by the expectations of others.
My first day went well. I made a good impression apart from accidentally eating a chocolate foil eyeball I was offered with the foil still on. I made an unhappy noise when the metal touched my fillings.
I walked down the Charing Cross Road to get the Piccailly Line home. I called in to my old haunt the Pyke and had a Coke. I recognised one of the barmen and asked him if he remembered me as the man who ordered two pints of Leffe at a time. He did not. I managed to have a far more coherent conversation with him than I otherwise would have which was good.
I’ve started taking a supplement called 5 HTP to try to keep me off he Nytol. There is nothing wrong with self medicating as such. It is portrayed as a great evil in society but people only do it because they feel ill. I only took Nytol to help me sleep and guess what? It stopped working because I wasn’t using it aa instructed.
I went out for a 5am run around Harlington. I wasn’t expecting a footpath at all as my hotel is right on the perimeter of Heathrow airport but it actually wasnt bad and I should be able to clock up the miles here.
Trying to run on as many mornings as possible. I fell into the awful trap before of going to bed after work and then waking up at 11pm for a run and then being unable to sleep or function without ever increasing amounts of Nytol. Then I’d be so fucking frazzled in the morning I wouldnt be able to run and the cycle would continue.
Now I am up at 2am on the next morning and staying up.