On Saturday Juliet and I, accompanied by her mother, went to the Living Crafts fair at Hatfield House. We were pretty hungry when we arrived so we headed straight for the food area, where Juliet’s mum bought us each a pork baguette, which was delicious. Afterwards, we had a good wander around the stalls, picking up some really lovely sausages and cheese, among other items. We also really enjoyed looking at the goats and the barn owl that were present, and chatting to the guy on a stall that sold products made from dog hair (yes, really!). All-in-all, a good day out.

Having discussed the matter at the weekend, Juliet and I have decided to live together. This will necessitate both of us moving as my studio flat, while great in many respects, just isn’t big enough for two and she’s currently living with her parents. I’m not particularly tied to Walthamstow and as long as I can get to work reasonably easily I really don’t mind too much where I live. Essentially, the whole of the Greater London area is fine.

I’ve had a look at properties online and it looks very much as though we’ll be able to get a decent one or two bedroom flat within our budget, which would be great. Living in a studio is all very well but it’s not ideal when you have guests. Our other requirements are quite modest: somewhere to park, a reasonably safe area, ideally not ground floor and ideally with access to green space.

There’s no desperate rush to find somewhere either, as we can both stay where we are pretty much indefinitely. This gives us the opportunity to look for somewhere that we really like, without having any pressure on us.

Am I happy about all this? I’m ecstatic.

I’m currently off work with a pretty nasty cold. Not the end of the world, I know, but it still feels very unpleasant. It started coming on on Sunday night and by Monday morning I felt ghastly. So, all this week so far I’ve been kicking around my flat reading, watching films and feeling like crap.

I’ve also been feeling pretty guilty about not being at work. I know that it’s stupid to go in when you don’t feel up to it and I really, really hate people who drag themselves in when they’re contagious and spread their nasty diseases to everybody else, and yet I can’t help but feel bad for not being there. I like my job and I like the people I work with, and I feel bad for letting them down.

When I worked in jobs I hated many moons ago, I felt much less bad about it when I was ill. I put my feet up and read my books with a clear conscience. These days I’m fortunate enough to have a job that makes me feel crappy for not being there. I should feel good about that and I guess I do.

For the past few days I’ve been off work with some kind of ‘fluey thing – sore throat, cough, headache but not snotty, thank goodness. It’s a real pain, especially as I’ve had a fair amount of time off sick recently. I’m sure they’re starting to get a bit pissed off with me back at the office. On the other hand, it would be foolish of me to haul myself in when I’m feeling this lousy. I did that on Mondayband it only made me feel worse.

On the plus side, I’ve had the opportunity, in amongst bouts of coughing my lungs up, to catch up on my reading and to watch some good films. Not to mention the joy that is BBC Radio 4, which has kept me amused, entertained and informed throughout this period of illness.

With a bit of luck I’ll manage to recover sufficiently over the weekend to get back to work on Monday. No doubt there’ll be a huge backlog of email to wade through.

I’m currently just over half way through a week off work. I decided that it would be a good idea to take a break because I’m quite tired, I needed to use up some of my holiday allocation and it was my birthday yesterday.

So, what have I been doing? For the most part, not a lot. I’ve watched quite a bit of TV, done a fair bit of reading and played some Scrabble. So far it’s been exactly what I needed. Relaxing and simple.

My mother very kindly sent me some money for my birthday, so I spent some of it on something I’ve wanted for quite some time – a crossbow. Only a small one, but I reckon I shall still have some fun with it.

Hopefully, when I return to work on Monday I shall be able to throw myself back into the fray with gusto. That’s the plan, anyway.

Some years ago I was at Paddington station, waiting for my mother, who was visiting for the weekend. Hanging around by the ticket barriers I became aware of a young girl nearby who was having a conversation on her mobile phone with her boyfriend amidst great sobbing. Being a naturally curious person and having nothing else to do, I listened.

It soon became clear that she had planned to spend the weekend with her boyfriend but had arrived late and missed her train. She’d asked if she could use her ticket to travel later and had been told that this wasn’t possible and she didn’t have the money to buy another ticket. Her distress was so overwhelming, her devastation at this turn of events so utter, that my heart went out to her.

I found myself wishing that I could help. If I’d had the money I’d have happily bought her a ticket, but unfortunately I had nothing. I was therefore forced to watch her trudge miserably home, her weekend utterly ruined.

I’ve thought of her many times since then, and wondered whether she found a way to get to wherever it was that her boyfriend lived. I find myself hoping that things worked out for her. Sometime I’d like another chance to help someone in similar circumstances.

I really dislike littering in all its many and varied forms, but the form of it that really gets my goat at the moment is newspapers, particularly the ever-increasing number of free ones, left on trains. You want to sit down in a crowded tube carriage, there’s a free seat, but it’s got a paper on it. You’re not a litterer yourself so simply throwing it on the floor feels wrong so you try to balance it against the window. Inevitably, it won’t stay there and falls over your shoulder into your lap or down between your back and the seat from where it’s almost impossible to remove it without elbowing your fellow passengers in the face.

I’m not sure what the answer to this problem is. Perhaps, on seeing someone leaving without the paper they brought onto the train, everyone else in the carriage should refuse to let them out until they return to their seat and get it. Perhaps someone should roll said paper up and give the miscreant a good whack over the head with it first. However it’s done, we need to put pressure on these anti-social gits to take their litter with them and put it in the bin. Preferably the recycling one.

All suggestions gratefully received.

It won’t surprise those who know me when I say that I hate football. This isn’t something new, I’ve always felt this way. To clarify a little, it’s not the actual game that I detest, more all the fuss and hype that surrounds it. Is it really that important who wins? Will your life never be the same again? Even at my most sports-fanatical I’d never claim that Valentino Rossi crashing out of a race could force me to take to my bed and spend the rest of the weekend wallowing in misery, so why do so many football fans behave as if their sport matters so much?

Anyway, the point of this ramble is that despite my loathing of the national sport and the consequent dreading of the World Cup that was my initial reaction, a thought has occurred to me. While the England matches are on, especially if the team make it through to the later stages of the competition, the streets will be blessedly, delightfully empty. I shall be able to amble around London without having to keep stopping or changing direction suddenly. I shall be able to get a seat on the Tube. As long as I’m safely off the streets by chucking out time I’ll be able to pretend that some sort of ghastly, Survivors-like plague has struck and I’m one of the lucky few who’s still around.

So, unlike my behaviour in previous years, I shall be cheering the home side on (mentally, at least) with as much gusto as the most excitable enthusiast can manage. And if they make the final I shall be utterly delighted.

I was made redundant just before Christmas. It wasn’t unexpected; in fact I had a couple of weeks’ garden leave before the redundancy was confirmed. I decided to take a couple more weeks over over the holiday period to relax and contemplate my future, which I think was a good idea. As of yesterday I’m actively seeking employment as a Web Developer, working primarily with PHP and MySQL, so if you know of anything or would like a copy of my CV, please get in touch.

Update: I have now found a job, which I start on Monday 18th January. I’m very glad to have found something so quickly and I’m looking forward to getting my teeth into it.

I hope everyone had as good a Christmas Day as I did. Good food, plenty of booze and great company – what more could you ask for? I also managed to get some lovely presents. Vally bought me something I’ve wanted for ages – an alarm clock from Voco, which features the voice of Stephen Fry and provides a lovely, gentle way to wake up in the morning. I tried it out today, of course. I have to play with my toys.

Today I may be having a wander around the shops before indulging in more nice food and drink. It’s a tough job but somebody’s got to do it.

Last Friday Vally and I met up after work and went to the Natural History Museum for a mooch around and a glass of wine, after which we found a restaurant and had a bite to eat.

On Saturday I bought a webcam (well, it was about time, really), did a bit of shopping and spent some time at Vally’s house. The evening was spent relaxing and being generally lazy.

On Sunday my old friend Ellison, who I hadn’t seen for seven or eight years, came down with her partner Patrick, who I liked very much, and we went out for a meal. We had intended to go to the Turkish restaurant on the High Street but it turned out, much to my embarrassment, to be closed. Fortunately Vally knew a good South Indian restaurant so we went there instead. As it turned out, it was more than good; the food really was superb. It takes a lot for me to have a starter, main course and dessert, but I just couldn’t resist. Especially since they had pistachio kulfi, one of my all-time favourites. And as for the pancakes we had to start, all I can say is, “wow!”