Its been a busy few weeks, Ive been to the theatre with Mrs T to see Withnail and I, the man whom I loosely based my formative years and then we reach this point in time, where its probably too late to change drastically and the “Fuck it” attitude seems to rear its head. No in honesty, I’m finding it very hard to concentrate at work and summon up even a scintilla of enthusiasm for a job I formerly loved but is being properly beaten up by some big boys with watermelons for brains. This corner of the government has been royally fucked as every other part has and the temptation to just loiter politely whilst the tories completely burn themselves out and then a grown up can take a look at whet needs to be done and we can put down this last decade as an almighty screw up and start again.

Last weekend we celebrated with some beer in the garden on Friday night, cheaper than the pub and you get to feel the grass between your toes whilst not having to move outside for a cigarette. Friday was when I decided that I should roll the guys a joint, I don’t smoke it, overdid it at Uni and in 30 years its been the only success I’ve had regarding giving bad habits up, that was until I’d completed the reefer, my friend checked it out and we decided this particular joint was most definitely of officer class and so was only right that I should light the thing up. 5 Puffs and I was absolutely spannered and chuckling my way home, the potential paranoia grew, was Mrs T going to be cross with me, would she notice? She’s bound to I was in a state and couldn’t even hold my water cup to my lips without sniggering. I decided to cook and presumably had some temporary brain blockage or common sense clot. Cooking when stoned is a nightmare when you’ve got others who would like to eat that evening. I’m not doing it again, forgot the rice and several ingredients, it turned out ok I think, I just needed fuel on this occasion.