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Sunday 31st August 2003

Periodically I have a day where I try to organise my life. I go through all my correspondence and put it in little files and sort out my receipts so I can send them to my accountant and fill in the little "to do" lists at the front of the filofax that I otherwise never use.
Every time it strikes me how much easier this would be if I simply spent two minutes each day doing it. But inevitably I always keep up my keenness for two days maximum and fall back into my old ways, where my only major filing cabinet is the floor.
Sometimes I suppose life just overwhelms us and it seems easier to sit back on our sofa staring into space, than to ring a surveyor to ask him to look at the strange patch of cracked plaster in our kitchens (even though we know we are just storing up trouble for the future).
You'd think that the fact that something inevitably has to be done at some point would encourage us to do it sooner, rather than at the last possible minute. But most of our stupid human brains don't work that way.
I suppose that there's always a chance that the world might end and we won't have to do the thing, so it is worth waiting for that eventuality rather than wasting precious prevarication time on doing something that might be made irrelevant by the Apocolypse.
So here I am back at one of those motivated points, where I think I'm going to be organised and get things done and put everything in its proper place.
I am also at a point where I have resolved to eat healthily and exercise every day.
I am also at a point where I have decided to cut down on my drinking, so I can enjoy all the fine intellectual pursuits that this life has to offer.
I am also at a point where I feel I should remain chaste and pure and wait for someone special to come into my life.

Fast forward to next Saturday's entry when I will be sniffing powdered whiskey off a prostitute's elbow, whilst eating an entire lorryload of Mr Kipling's French Fancies (which will be being put into my mouth by a small Venezualan boy, who will also move my lips, as lifting food to my mouth and then masticating- I said masticating - would expend too much energy) and encouraging the local tyre slashing youngsters to set fire to any receipts in my house that they can find.
I am going to do my best to make that vision come true.
I wonder what will really happen.

Oh hold on, I'll be in Carlisle.
That will probably be a seedy enough experience as it is.

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