The Flaw of Attraction.....

This morning I went to the cash point to stare at my bank balance. I've been doing this a lot lately and I wouldn't normally recommend it as a past time. Today however, was different. Today I had reason to be excited. Today was the day I'd been waiting for, I could feel it in my empty purse.
So off I skipped to the high street and its sexy cash machines, hoping my favourite would be free.
We all have a favourite cash machine.
Thoughts of wealth occupied my mind, maybe I'll give a percentage to Charity?
Great, no queue...

Beep beep beep beep...... Balance.

What?...That can't be right, That's the same amount as yesterday. This cannot be right. I've done everything the book told me to do, I put the note on the fridge, I thought positive thoughts - more than was comfortable for someone like me. It must be a technical glitch.
I'll try again on one of the less attractive machines..

Beep beep beep beep........  Oh fuck off.

According to The Secret this is not the way this should be going. According to The Secret if you ask the Universe for something, it gives it to you. Its the Law of Attraction, there are books and films about this very thing.
I've been asking the Universe for money all sodding week and nothings happening. I should be looking at a tidy sum right about now, instead all I'm seeing are the same sad numbers I've been looking at all week!

Maybe if I blink at the machine?..... nothing.
Maybe the machines broken?.....press some buttons.
Maybe the Universe doesn't have my Bank details?...That's it!  They don't know where I bank, how could I be such a fool. How could I be so arrogant to think they would know such a thing.
I don't know who they are but they need this information.
And with that I'm off home to tell the Great Unknown all it needs to know to make me one Rich Bitch.

Of course, I am aware all this is utter bollocks but whats the alternative?
Get a job?!

Dear Universe, my sort code is.........

On the buses where the fidgets hang...

If you see me on a bus, don't sit next to me. I wont like it, especially if I've already been standing down a hole in a Sauna on Wheels for an hour and a half trying to get to Clapham and going precisely nowhere. 

Turns out when you actually want to get off the train and walk the rest of the tunnel you're not allowed.

So with a heavy heart and a face full of armpit I gave up on my Bonfire mission and got the Friday night Death Bus back home.

It could have been worse, I had a seat upstairs at the front of an almost empty bus and a hot chocolate in my hand, as bad situations go this wasn't the end of the world. Maybe I'll get to see some fireworks on the way?

Its a well known fact that Fidgets live on public transport. They feed off the irritation they cause. Its their job to spread annoyance with their foot tapping, bag rummaging ways.  

I don't cope well with irritation. Some people can block it out, or more amazing still, not even notice it in the first place, for me its akin to torture. So, when sitting in my front row seat of a rapidly filling bus I sense a wayward Fidget searching for prey I immediately go into fight or flight......I choose neither and instead put my bag on the seat and look out of the window at a pigeon.

Lets just say by the end of my journey I wanted her dead. Nobody needs to put hand cream on for an hour. 

I never saw any Fireworks,  but I did spill my hot chocolate and cultivate a new hatred for a person I've never met. I'm going to buy bike and become an irritation, If you can't beat them....

Today will be the day where I do things.

Its so difficult to get motivated, Suddenly having no job can do that to you. I'd have thought the opposite was true. Instead I find myself eating last nights chinese, agreeing wholeheartedly with Carol McGiffin's 'shiny tights' gripe whilst reeling from the knowledge that some women turn their knickers inside out to get two days wear!  Loose Women disgust me.
Still, at least I can watch the News ......A man has finally cut his hedge down = 5 full minutes on ITN.    I am deeply comforted by the knowledge that some grotty street in some place I've never heard of has been liberated from its hedge hell.
 I'd watch BBC instead but they're on strike - Bang on trend.

When I dramatically quit my Retail job six months ago I was full of optimism for the future, I'd already changed my life in many ways. Addressed my demons head on, it seemed the only way to go was upwards, turns out sideways was the more comfortable option. 'I'll just stay at work an extra month till I get myself sorted'. Months turned into more months and before I knew it May had come and gone and it was October. How the piss did that happen?
So, on the back of that realisation I finally quit my job last week. Drama Queen? Yes maybe, but I was so bored by my daily routine, I longed for excitement. Time for Change, as Old Macaroon Face bleated throughout his election campaign, was my new mantra. NOT in a Tory way.
So, as of last Friday I became a jobless bum.
Why am I telling the world this tale of how I live my life? I'm not sure to be honest, Call it a diary. Call it Therapy. Call it Narcissism.
I like to tell stories that hopefully strike a cord with people. So, this is my Blog, follow me if you will and I'll do my utmost to keep you entertained. Be warned, I moan.