The only problem that I didn’t foresee with my plan to break out of the hermitage was the sometimes lack of things to do. I’m sitting here on a Saturday night, its quarter to nine, and I have no offers for this evening. 

Living in the Hermitage got me used to staying in but when you change your life around, mix it up and try and be a more sociable sole, hanging around on a weekend evening with nothing to do and no one to talk to starts to drive you a little stir crazy. Most of my friends have disappeared off to the V festival in Chelmsford and whilst I should have a night in (I’m working tomorrow and actually have been working most of today as well) I’m keen, eager and need to blow off some energy! 

The past few weeks have been very busy with work what with the break from the day job and trying to work my little arse off so as to impress. I know that I’ve been noticed, I know they like me as they’ve continued to give me work since February and there have also been some rumours going around in a positive light about my future with ITV. However, nothing concrete has been said and knowing my character only too well I have been trying my best to keep excitement and hope under close wrap. It is far to easy to start plotting out an entire career for myself on one, stupidly misplaced comment, so until anything definite is said I must control myself. That being said I’ve told just about anyone who would listen how well its going – perhaps a bad mood if I’m going to then have to tell them all it didn’t work out! 

However, I am indeed moving in the right direction. I’ve been helping out a lot on strands (mini documentaries) which is exactly where I want to be and last Tuesday I managed to get some onscreen camera action as well so all being well and not ending up on the cutting room floor, I’ll make a decent debut in September. All experience is good, I’m lapping up as much as I possibly can, I just have to keep my drive and motivation up, which isn’t hard when I’m surround by fantastic people and in a career I finally find inspires, excites and drives me forward.

But back to tonight…..who on earth can rescue me from my boredom?!?

All I need to say......have they never watched Terminator, Matrix or i-robot?

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/technology/7559150.stm

I don’t have many days when I wish I’d never gotten out of bed, but today, when the ground failed to open up and whisk me away to a quick dark death, was one of those occasions where I wished I’d rolled over, smacked the alarm, and gone back to my slumber. 

The office hive is a delicate place, there are queen bee’s, workers, drones and grubs (those that do nothing). Some you like, some you abide, some you despair at. One grub, perhaps the biggest of the office, drove me stir crazy today with her lack of movement. It was easy to understand her size as she sat awkwardly on a seat ten sizes too small for her, her perfectly manicured nails being continuously filed, her strange yet unbelievably hysterical weave flopping around her head like a dead parrot. She has one extremely well maintained office ability – that of delegation. Today it was the work ex that bore the brunt of this feature, and before long the poor girl was running around London at the grub’s beckon call. I was irate, why couldn’t grub do something, she was lucky to have this job, privileged, people would kill for a 6month paid placement on a television set. It was too much for me and in a fit of text outburst I text a friend the simple words “Lazy Fucking Cow”. 

Hmmm, now, nothing wrong with that – apart from when your subconscious actually causes you to send it too the individual you were talking about! I was mortified! I couldn’t believe I’d done it. Would she be upset? Would she take it further? I’m sure I was a bright crimson on the outside. Trying my best to style it out I babbled quickly about how it wasn’t meant for her, it was about someone else and I had accidently sent it to her. Did she buy it? Who knows!! I’m still wide eyed and grimacing slightly about it now, I think I’m safe, I think I managed to turn it around, but the real truth will come tomorrow morning. 

And you would think that this was the end to my day but no……once again I managed to put myself in it. I curse the tube, I hate it, there’s no seats, its too hot and by the time your on your evening commute you’re packed in like a sardine, sweat running unattractively down your back and papers or armpits shoved perilously close to your face. Why oh why a women decided to get on with her toddler and amazingly huge buggy I have no idea…but I shouldn’t curse, it is public transport after all. 

As our journey progressed and the crowds dwindled slightly allowing me to breath the tube came to a stop, the doors swishing open to uncover a large gap between the carriage and the platform. To my side the lady grappled with her buggy, child now fast asleep, whilst the man in front of me, arm across in front of me like a prison bar, stood and did nothing. I couldn’t help it, I never normally say anything but before I could stop and think my mouth was flapping open and in a large and accusing tone said “Are you gonna help her or what?!” He looked astonished and slunk to one side as I pushed past him and grabbed the buggy, my ipod, phone and bag scattering in my wake. Revelling in my heroic deed I was quite proud of myself, for standing up, helping and making those that did nothing feel ashamed. That was until the lady with the buggy smiled and politely told me she wasn’t actually getting off. 

For the second time in the day I could have died. Here I am, throwing my weight around, the whole carriage of commuters looking at me, accusing strangers of doing nothing and it was all for nothing! The women gave me a desperate stare, the accused gentlemen most luckily for me smiled and accepted my apology and I returned to my seat before quickly dialling a friend on my mobile so as to no have to look at anyone left on the train. There may be something in NOT saying things. Why did I, when I never say anything, choose to pipe up on this opinion, in the complete wrong situation. I really had quite a day!

When it comes to matters of the heart I’m the first to admit I’m a total screw up. Butterflies, yearning and nervous fits of laughter are kept under strict lock and key never to see the light of day for I know only too well the state of mind that I end up in. Normal, everyday folk, like Nik turn their flights of fancy into excitement, rollercoaster journeys, nothing to be depressed about, indeed, something put a spring in their step, a smile on their otherwise downturned faces. Not me. The instant a seed of fancy enters my heart I go into meltdown, my brain whirs into a chronic state of overdrive, and before long I’ve taken to my bed, curtains drawn, lights off, a state of misery. And what’s even worse is that I know it’ll happen and I haven’t yet worked out how to stop it! 

That seed has started to unequivocally germinate in my heart and I’m back pedalling as fast as my legs will go. He’s shorter than me, blond and cute as can be and thankfully he’s gay, unlike the ridiculous situation I managed to get myself into a few years back when I decided to throw myself, caution and dignity thrown to the wind, at an 18 year old straight guy! Sod the bells, I should have had bloody fog horns booming, and as you can quite imagine, it went tits up….where else could it have gone! Even worse I decided to tell him when I was stuck in the middle of the Ecuadorian jungle, no escape route planned, and weeks but what seemed like years ahead of me before we could part ways. It was not a well thought out plan….but then hearts are never rational. 

The latest beau is partnered up, another case that will end in tears….why can I not actually just take a straight forward route (other than the celibate state I’ve been in for several years which is not without its own fraught problems)?? I seemed to damn myself for eternity. Mr Yoyo keeps drawing me home, I back pedal a little more, get myself out of danger, and just when I think the coast is clear, there he is again, one tug on that little heart string and I’m pinging back towards him. I must be strong willed, I must not let myself fall into this precarious and obviously dire situation, I must must must pay absolutely no attention to my heart. 

That said, after a few drinks at the summer party this Friday, I have a nasty image of my heart leaping out of my mouth, a weekend of hell and a beetroot worthy embarrassing encounter on Monday morning. Let the good times commence!

Lastminute.com was at it again. I’m not entirely sure what is going through his mind when he comes to my desk at 5.30 with some entirely random goose chase for me to do, but it sure as hell is beginning to get tiresome. Yes, I understand that he is most likely to be there all night, but I endeavour to finish at 6, I don’t get paid enough to sacrifice my life for the sake of making some mad dash around London finding random items. stoned cherries this time, orange gerbera's last time, tell me at the beginning of the day and I’m more than happy, tell me with 30minutes to go and I’m less than pleased. 

I am slowly being engulfed by strands which I am more than happy with. The strands team are the driving force behind the 10 – 15 minute mini documentaries that appear within the show and thus working with them gives me the exact insight and knowledge that I want to learn and further my career in this field. Though the office runner, I was working with Strands both Thursday and Friday, and again on Mon on one project, and then sporadic days on other scattered topics over the next few weeks – result!

On a day like today, when Londoners are rushing to the parks due to a faint sliver of sun, the strange feeling of heat, it is hard not to feel good. Frown’s turn into smiles, shorts, shades, skirts are out, you plug yourself into some favourite tunes and set off to stroll the streets, enjoying the often fleeting summers day, not knowing when the next one will be. Well – that is supposed to be what we do isn’t it? Yet after seeing my favourite and only Saturday client this morning I felt strangely morose and lethargic. 

The day started of well enough, though I am finding myself slowly slipping into insomnia and thus feeling rather tired, but by the time I had returned home, let the chooks loose to ravish the garden and drunk my daily maximuscle supplement I was feeling more than a little lack lustre. The problem with trying to break ones hermitage way is that you start to discover that, although you thought you were in fact unique and everyone else was out having a great time, when you ring around most can’t be bothered! Perhaps, much rather than me being the only modern hermit, a loner in my own right, it is actually that society is becoming more and more this way. Why do we even need to leave our houses these days?! You can shop for clothes, groceries, household goods on the internet. You can do all the socialising one might need by phone, email, messenger. The number of people working from home is increasing and why relocate for entertainment when we have it siphoned into our homes through TV, internet, gaming. And needing some special “attention”? Then simply dial a date. Are we a society of modern hermits?! Are we in danger of becoming a race networked by cables & wires, never seeing the light of day, never actually leaving our unique cut off worlds? 

I spent this afternoon slumbering in my bedroom, a cup of tea in one hand, a malt loaf in the other and “Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles” on my PC. I’m loving this newly discovered series and what with my obsessive behaviour I couldn’t wait to see it as by aire date, soon having the episodes downloading and watching it for 3 hours. A know a new obsession when I see it coming on, but my love for TV drama’s has me well and truly hooked at least the days of blowing out friends, dates and generally life is over what with the greatest invention of Sky+, Virgin+, catchup and the like. 

The rain is coming down now, soft and pattering. It’s a fresh relief from the burning heat of the day…lets hope it washes this strange mood away leaving me refreshed for tomorrow’s Peruvian Party.

The sun is still baking in London, a breezy gentle heat, and after a day of gardening I seriously need to sort my tan situation out. You may think that gardening, being outside and having the joys of the sun and blue fluffy skies one would get a great tan, you do, however there are problems. I look like an overbaked sandwich, a Panini that hasn’t been flipped, from the back a gorgeous brown, from the front porcelain white and from the side a lovely zip looking line! It may be one of the most bizarre tan’s ever, a hazard of bending over herbaceous borders all day. 

I have been feeling highly creative today, more so than usual. My brain is a melting pot for idea’s, stories, plots. It always has been and from the earliest stages, even before I could write, I was creating my own drama’s with my farmyard sets, a dairy mutiny one day, escape of the pigs the next, I could keep myself happy for many many hours, perhaps this is how my inner hermit first began, shut away in my own little imaginative world for all those hours. 

For a couple of years now I’ve been gradually forming a black comedy drama in my head….the characters, principle layout, sets, stories, look…all subconsciously building into my own little world. An addict to the gaming phenomenon “Sims 2” I first thought of expressing this story through their videoing media but this simply wouldn’t do justice to what I can actually play out in my head and today I have thought that rather keeping it in my head I actually ought to write it down, perhaps even attempt to write the pilot and maybe, in a terrifying world, try and pitch it to someone at ITV (though this would be rather crap inducing and WAY to scary right now!). If one never tries then one will never know…so I guess I ought to just get my crap together and get on with it. Set around a physiatrists office the series would gradually see the introduction of key clients, phasing into their dramatically filled lives and that of the quirky and surreal psychiatrists leaving the viewer wondering who actually needed the help more, the clients or the professionals. Through differential means we would start to discover that each patient knew more about the others than they cared to admit, often ending in some embarrassing and dramatic admissions….whilst behind the scene’s the office workings went from the strange to the utterly bizarre. Obviously, sometimes what seems like a good idea in ones head is utter rubbish when it hits the paper so I will have to see what is left when I write a fleshed out script and define the characters more….but even if it goes nowhere…it’s a creative outlet that my brain is badly needing right now.

My goodies arrived, nice and early. I was woken by the doorbell and within minutes was sitting in bed, ripping open my package to take a good gander at my well spent desires. My shoes are great, the pants fit perfectly and though I’m not sure about the aviator glasses, apparently this is fashion, so I’m sure I’ll wear them at least once. It’s always an extra excitement to see what goodies they send you ….for free! This package included some compede shoe supports (which I sent onto my housemate for her high heeled shoes) and a 200ml bottle of Loreal sun kissed moisturising cream! A bargain for sure! 

Having today what for me was a day off I decided to head to the newest café in, apparently, up and coming South Woodford. We have long been the area clinging on to London for dear life, the Essex border to close for comfort, the Essex residents for the most part in the immediate area, wealthy, tacky, shallow and most women a brighter shade of orange. South Woodford is an eatery area, we have Italian restaurants overflowing every conceivable restaurant space, we have chippies, Indians and Chinese’s, we have pretentious little café’s, ridiculously over priced and under exciting bars, and every new apartment block that is fast filling our suburban skies has at least one dining space created below. I wasn’t expecting much from the new “Belgique”. I was expecting to be unimpressed, to be repelled by the price, to be sidelined by tacky atmosphere. I was wrong!! 

A two minute walk and I came upon a very sleek, very modern but European looking café. My nose was greeted by the smell of fresh bread mixed with a flavour of spiced tea’s and my eyes…oh my eyes were delighted by row upon row of Belgium delights. Little chocolate tartlets, sugared muffins, glazed fruit pies. Pan a Chocolate, croissants, apple strudels, my eyes were on stalks, like an excited snail on acid! The atmosphere was warm and friendly yet professional, the price excitingly reasonable, the stack of today’s papers free for perusal and I was pleasantly shocked by this scene. I settled down for an hour of tea drinking, gob stuffing and paper reading and by the time I arrived back home was very satisfied with my mornings work.

In my uplifted mood I grabbed my godmothers dog and, with the sun baking down upon my back, headed off with a sprint to the allotment. A good two hours there, pulling weeds, spindling runner beans, turning over soil – as well as the obligatory munching of one or possible two strawberries, I have had a rather marvellous day! Tomorrow beckons with lust as the night draws on, new clients, new jobs and what new delights?

Superbly I managed to finish one of my clients decking today. It seems to have been going on for an eternity, and after the Ronseal incident I was anxious to get the task completed and move on. After a week of continuous greying drizzle the sky was blue today, the clouds light and fluffy and I worked on my tan as I hunched awkwardly for a painstaking four hours, brushing up and down, this way and that. The decking, in my opinion, now looks great and shouldn’t get into such a state of disrepair again for several years, though once again it came close to not being finished as it came to the final dregs of stain to complete. 

Along with my happy mood came that inevitable shopping lust and after receiving a 50% sale email (yes, that’s 50% everyone!) from ASOS I couldn’t bear not to look, just in case I might miss any incredible bargains! Lucky enough I found some, and they will be winging their way to me in the next few days while I wait with quiet anticipation. Control thrown to the wind (for I really don’t earn enough to be blowing more money this month) I was clicking away filling my shopping basket when I remembered that Ellen had in fact offered me a £10 off voucher if you spent £60 and deciding that I ought to take advantage of this I held off instantly buying, leaving my screen open, just so I could check back later if I needed to. Lucky I did! I went back to the shoes page and to my horror the pair I wanted were now sold out – I had the last pair in my basket. Well of course, I couldn’t wait, I had to have those shoes and I had to have them in an 11. To find such a pair of shoes and then lose them at the last might would have been devastating! Thank goodness I looked back!

Pointer 'Soma' High-Top Trainers

Small Aviator Sunny's

Calvin Klein Fashion Briefs

Can’t wait to get my goodies…..though no more spending! What with maximuscle, grain for the chickens, pee pads for Toby (my neuro cat who has the annoying habit of peeing in the house) and now this…the second clothes spend of the month, I’m going to be totally broke!

A stimulating conversation tonight taught me exactly this when a friend divulged that his current relationship had been torn into pieces in an ugly way and that his heart was clinging on to its last string for dear life. The deep, excruciating pain that he felt deep inside was something he had never experienced before, his cave man projection was lost and his modern man couldn’t stop crying. But why had this happened? What truly awful thing had happened? It was that she simply hadn’t understood that we are men, and we take a little bit longer to work out what’s going on, to acknowledge feelings we’ve never felt before, and to try to put into words and gestures just how we feel. 

As time rattles past at an alarming rate we are getting left behind. The times to have your first kiss, first shag, first deep relationship when you’re but a mere teenager are fast disappearing into the black of past and we are left shivering in the present wondering what the hell we’re supposed to do now. My generation of male friends are single, we’re past the drunken shags, we’ve realised that actually, deep down, we’re not players, we just want to love and be loved but we seemed to have missed the express train and have been left in a desperate mess with no idea what to do. Women our age know what they want, they have high expectations, and won’t take any shit. The slightest mistake we might make and we’re kicked to the curb, no second chances, no opportunities to learn as we go along. But the irony of the situation is that WE are the good guys, we’re working out what we want, we have good jobs, are independent, know where we’re going in life, all the things that women tell us they want but yet, because we weren’t the jocks in high school, because we didn’t get those relationship experiences early on and are trying to feel our way along like a blind man without a cane we are penalised for our mistakes. 

I’m not trying to paint a rosy picture, I know the truth. We are stuck in our ways, we don’t talk about feelings, aren’t overly affectionate, find any kind of emotional giving to be an extreme kind of torture, but we too know that we want to change, we acknowledge a need to learn, it is finally dawning on us how this whole love thing works…so please….give us a second chance when we need it!