Yesterday’s solution of alcohol has the unfortunate side effect of this morning’s banging head and general all over feeling of shite-ness. Ahhh yes, the sweet, sweet remnants of the evening passed have given birth today an almighty hang over that could only be complimented more so by a call from work’s support desk asking me to drag myself out of bed and come into the office to fix an issue that has in an almost devil like twin birth forced me to face the world running at half speed and retarded.

The upside, or rather proverbial silver lining of this cloud is that whilst I may be going in to the office at 10 on a Sunday morning with a hangover to rival the Chernobyl disaster work does have a wonderful thing called the internet connected to it that will somewhat alleviate the cravings that is my nerd-dom’s internet addiction.

Take away coffee in hand, obligatory sunglasses covering eyes and recently digested Nurofen dissolving I boarded the train with what can only be described as your early Sunday morning collective of commuters. An unruly mixture of teenagers heading to the city to shop and loiter in their desperate quest to grow older too quickly, older persons who really aren’t quite sure what they’re doing but figure with the weather being nice it’d be a grand old idea to ride the “iron horse” and spend a day in “town” and then my category of cruelly injured revealers, most of which find themselves returning home from a night whence they know not what they’ve done, where they’ve been or god forbid whom they’ve been with.

“That’s a lovely shade of massacre panda eyes.” Did I just say that out loud? Hehehe; oh, mental note, don’t make self laugh, hurts head.

Work’s problem turns out to be nothing I can fix, it’s actually nothing to do with my department at all but instead the fact that, in an ironic twist of fate, that our little old office has been disconnected from the world with a switch failing and the redundancy being so slow that it too is as redundant as having the first broken. English, our network connection is ferked and low and behold that means no internet for me. Great. Three hours later after informing our lovely and obliging network engineers our computers burst into life along with the phones and magically all the problems disappear. Not bad I suppose, three hours and all, I mean it only took me an hour to get it through their heads that there was a problem. Let’s just say that IT support or for that matter most people working in IT (and I can say this because I’m one of them) have about as much in the way of communication skills, no let’s narrow it further, listening skills as Britney Spears does parenting.

There was no way I was sticking around the office any longer than what I already had so whence the network did grace all with its triumphant return I quickly uploaded the last two days diary entries and made sure there was nothing worth reading in my email accounts. There wasn’t.

Being such a lovely day, and the fact that there was really no rush to get home other than to unpack or sit around bored I took a wander through the city. There were a lot of parasites; crap… “people” crawling through the city centre and various shopping outlets. I did my usual lap of Borders with no purchase, a rarity for me, and then checked cooled the hangover blues with some of the Colonel’s finest popcorn chicken before heading home.

With no plans and nothing to really keep me away from relocation duties I started to clean up a little from the move. It was either that or sitting down with my thoughts and to be perfectly honest sitting around home doing nothing reminds me of being on holidays in a strange city where you know no one and there are not sights to go see leaving you alone with your thoughts. Frankly being alone with them scare me, I try and keep away from my thoughts as best possible. Depressing bastard. So I did the next best thing… I separated clothes I don’t wear any more and then arranged the most commonly worn attire in my new walk-in-robe by colour (Black-Grey-White then standard ROYGBIV of course) using a uniform coat hanger style and colour. Can you hear the psycho music playing?

Of course when dealing with clothes there are always dirty ones which meant numerous loads of washing, which to be honest I should’ve started about four days ago but even when procrastinating from work, there’s so many other wonderfully mind numbing activities to pursue than washing but my fingers were hurting from playing too much Guitar Hero as it was so I gave in. After drying the first load and putting another in the washing machine I began the arduous task of folding and sorting where I came across a rather unexpected find… There amongst my freshly dried washing was a pair of white woman’s underwear! Now either I’d had one hell of a night that I have no recollection of or I’ve started sleep-cross-dressing because there hasn’t been a woman near my place in a very long, long, long, long, long time. (Sorry I have over emphasised that fact?) How on Earth did a pair of woman’s underwear get into my washing?? I was positively befuddled! I put them aside and went on with my business and it wasn’t until later eating my dinner that consisted of Campbell’s Chunky Dog-Food, I mean “Beef Stew” in a convenient microwaveable tub that it hit me! I just moved apartments: Yes, yes you have. The dryer comes with the apartment: Uhuh, your point? It’s up high too: Again, correct. How many times did you leave stuff there by mistake because you couldn’t see it? A few I suppose, socks tend to become invisible in there. Eureka! It would seem the mystery underwear has been left by a previous tenant. So I just did a fresh load of washing and then dried it with someone’s underwear that has been festering away in the apartment’s tumble dryer for the past two weeks? Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww…

I did some washing. Again.