Diary

Although this page is called my diary it is a more of a jotting pad. A place where I can make notes and asides, and where the occasional reader can leave some well meaning banter. If you haven’t – shame on you. Just position your cursor over the word ‘Comments’ at the bottom of the article, click once and type away in the window that pops up to leave me a note.

But its not a daily chronicle of my life. I never really thought it would be. The 70’s throwback lent me Where Did It All Go Right?: Growing Up Normal in the 70s by Andrew Collins and I was reading it on the train to Preston this morning. It almost inspired me to turn this page into a journal, until I remembered the woeful attempts I’ve made in the past to keep a diary. Luckily most of them have been thrown away or burnt.

But still, the odd "Got up, had breakfast, went to work, came home, tippy tapped, went to bed" type entry wouldn’t go amiss. At the very least it would remind you that I’m still alive.

So, this morning I got up at a quarter to six, finished packing my bag, was on the Northern Line by twenty past six and was safely on the seven thirty London Euston to Preston express. Whilst on the train I read the Guardian, fixed some code and listened to the following music;

• Marillion – Anoraknophobia
• Prefab Sprout – A Life of Surprises
• Turin Brakes – Ether Song

After a thirty five minute, thirty pound taxi ride I arrived at work.

And it was still as dreadful as when I left on Friday. Bugger.