I am a very angry

I am a very angry young man.

It seems just too far away, emotionally, the fantastic weekend I've just spent in Prague. I came off of that weekend just dizzy with happiness, literally. I'd spent a great weekend in honour of Pete's forthcoming, with great times, fond memories (especially of catching some decent time with a Casey or Three) and hey, even a shiny new harmonica. Yes folks, last Monday night I was untouchable in the happiness stakes.

Yet here I sit typing, I've barely even woken up, I've bearly started my morning cuppa, and yet I'm absolutely bristling with anger. Ready to start a fight with anyone who wants to piss me off. I'm in a mood where I'd like to come accross the smug git of an usher that added fuel to my fire last night, just so I could put a dent in his head.

Geezus, I think I know what life must be like for my brother!

What has put me in this foul mood? I think it's the because I've had a hell of a lot of excess energy recently, that was soured yesterday by a morale-crushing performance review at work.

It wasn't a bad review, mind. If you were to look at the piece of paper that came out of it, you'd tell me I ought to be quite proud. But that's not the point. In a way I'd rather they'd been angry at me. the whole damn thing was so...lukewarm. There was no heart in it at all. No gratitude and no derision, just...a form. Where's the heart? Most insulting of all was when I tried to put forward some good ideas I have for next year, they were greeted with an attitude of, oh, it's too much hassle. That's why I'm so angry. I'm fed up with such f*cking apathy. I'm p*ssed off with that smugly contented usher too. I want to mix things up. I want to meet someone that still thinks they're alive. Come on England, throw down the rules and forms that tie you to your desks and show some bloody spirit!