A week is a long time in politics and in Southport.
Last week, despite feeling generally positive about life, there were a few lingering worries. I have my mum to thank for this, – she maintains that she’s from a long line of worriers and has apologised for passing this trait on to me. I told her not to worry about it.
Like her, I worry about the things that I have absolutely no control over as well as the things that I can actually influence. A standard worry list from last week:
Will I be single for ever?
Will I be entitled to benefits despite having been sacked for Gross Misconduct (I don’t want to talk about it)?
Will I ever get a job?
Will my medical be ok at the new Doctor’s?
If I arrange to go to Liverpool, will anyone want to meet me for a drink.
Well, dear reader, I can report the following:
I write to you with a rather fuzzy head, having been on an actual DATE last night with a very, very nice lady who I met on Match.com… I’m pretty sure that this will be the first of, at least, several dates with this particular lady. And lady, dear reader, she most certainly is.
The other day I had a call from an old contact who owns a HUGE on and offline Directory for Film & Television and has offices in Pinewood and Manchester, who, having heard I was no longer employed, was falling over himself to arrange for me to come and meet him and discuss my options. His exact words were ‘I wasn’t planning on employing anyone else just yet, but as you’re available we need to talk…’ – meeting scheduled for 27th
I received a text from the JSA this morning (they’re so damn funky and WITH IT– sending texts like excitable schoolkids) informing me that my claim for benefits had been successful and any moment now, free money was going to start dropping into my bank account. It was all I could do to stop myself texting back a thumbs up emoticon.
Tomorrow I’ll be in the most bohemian street in the world, – Liverpool’s Lark Lane, meeting friends I literally haven’t seen for 30 years, as well as musician mates ranging from the former guitarist of the Stairs (uh-may-zing band), Paul Weller’s Drummer (I asked if he would mind that there would be a few old fogies present but he assured me that old fogies don’t worry him as he works with them), John Head and Pete Wylie (hopefully, – mood swings allowing). We will meet in the Albert – a legendary place, we will drink copious amounts of fizzy non-specific European Lager and all will be right with the world.
Oh, I sailed through my medical this morning. 127/70…!? I ask you. This is what tuna sandwiches on brown bread and daily 3 mile walks gets you. And as for my urine sample, – the nurse testing it looked over at me with such admiration, I thought for a minute she was going to take a sip…(naturally the sample was provided before last night’s festivities had begun)…
So all in all, I am pleased to report that things are good at the moment. I’ve bounced back with aplomb.
What worries me is whether it will last…