A little bit the worse for wear

I met an old friend today who I haven't seen for 5 years, so I'm a little bit tanked up for 7pm on a Thursday evening. Never mind. I don't feel like writing at all, but I'm trying to get myself to write regardless of my mood.

I'm really overwhelmed by the level of friendliness I'm finding on this rainy island, despite the fact that people say London is a lonely place.

I have been warned that I should give it more time - the initial social thing can die off in winter, but I'm not phased - can take or leave it.

I haven't had a place to call my own for almost a month and although I'm missing being able to sing odd songs, burp and fart at will and wonder around in my space swinging low, I'm happy as a smiling budda for now. I remain flexible as always, able to assimilate into whatever situation I find myself in.

I came here expecting the worst, but I arrived with an open mind and a purpose of sorts, perhaps that has helped me.

Raymond hasn't really changed, he's still a really down to earth stand-up guy. He still can't really judge people the way they are, but because he is such a damn fine person it makes him more accessible. I enjoy chatting with Ray. We can talk about anything. I will be meeting Jill on Sunday, Rays wife. We've always got on fine, but Jill is always on Rays case, yadda yadda yadda - non stop.

Grant called me earlier, my brothers brother-in-law, asking how I'm doing - I think he wanted to go for a pint, will maybe call him now to see if he wants to meet me in Wimbo for a pint, otherwise, there's always tommorrow. I'm a bit too pissed right now to meet anyone, to be honest.

So, I post this lacking in humour and any other type of enjoyable reading stakes because I owe it to myself to try to write under all conditions. Inspiration is miles away, there's none here at 19.04pm - maybe later ?

Possibly after a nice bite to eat.