Sat in a pub awaiting the rest of the team and I feel vulnerable. Blokey men lear at girls and laugh in unison far too loudly and swear noisily too. I chickened out of ordering a coffee, why? Well I thought it would make me look really wimpy. When the others arrive it will fine. Eleven and a half months sober and I notice the sticky germ ridden table tops and the atmosphere is thick with the possibility of a kick off.
I need a shower after here. Am I getting more obsessive these days. Hand rails have become a no no due to countless people sweeping their unwashed hands over them forever. Society is a hot bed of disease and hatred.
The minutes tick by so slowly that it is starting to feel like all eyes are on me but, rational thinking tells me they are not. Surely if I'm seen with my head down tapping away on this device then it will be understood that I am comfortable. But I'm not.
I have just come from the end of my working day via the cinema where I watched 'Lay The Favourite' it was shit. Yet the weird man was there for about the fifth time. The ghost of my future who has gone slightly mad was already talking out at the trailers as I slipped into my seat. I swear he recognises me too as a familiar face.
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