I tried so hard and got so far. But in the end, it doesn't even matter. I had to fall, to lose it all. But in the end, it doesn't even matter.

Dear week commencing the 14th of January,

I know you're not officially over yet, what with the weekend looming, but so far you have proved to be a complete waste of time.

Whilst I'm a firm believer that 'tomorrow is another day', you've done nothing to confirm that line of thinking, instead choosing to make each and every day as utterly rubbish as each other. There have even been times when I've not realised what day it is and have had to double check, which is simply not good enough.

Each day you should have not only provided me with some work, but also with a phone call or two, allowing me to plan for more work in advance. To say you've failed in this department is an understatement of the largest proportion. Not only has the phone been deathly quiet, but I've not even had enough work to restock my fridge. Did you see my fridge last week!? In addition, I'm now also facing a week ahead with just one job tentatively booked in. This simply isn't good enough and I am seriously considering writing a strongly worded letter to Chronos and the screen-writers of "Gone With The Wind".

You've done nothing to arrest my dislike of daytime TV (although i did love the re-runs of Ally McBeal if I'm totally honest), but I'm sick, sick, sick of seeing adverts about Debt Consolidation, Car Insurance, that fucking Churchill dog, those goons from Halifax singing and dancing and I'm even tired of the trailers for the new series of Skins. And just who the fuck does Jeremy Kyle think he is? I know what I think he is!

I've been getting up early, only to be presented with another flat day. Even though I've tried to be as pro-active as I can about filling my days with work, by early afternoon, my motivation and drive have flown the coop and I'm left feeling like I might as well write the rest of the day off. I've been going to bed at a reasonable time, only to find myself lying there worrying about things and dreading that the following day isn't just a repeat of today. Needless to say it has been.

Every night, you've presented me with bad dreams. Two of which involved such horrible things that I've been jerked out of my bodily rest and thrust into the dark and dingy reality that is my bedroom. You've ignored my pleas to have naughty dreams about The Girl and instead have given me mixed visions that have horrified me to the point of waking up in a startled and bemused state.

Not only have you been utterly crap as far as work is concerned, but it's obviously had a knock-on effect on my finances, meaning I can't go to see The Girl this weekend. I don't think I need to explain how pissed off that makes me feel.

The only comforting thing is knowing that you wont be around next week, specifically next weekend, when I will be spending some time with The Girl and then topping the weekend off by seeing Linkin Park play.
That aside, it's been a complete waste of a week of my life and I sincerely hope our paths never cross again.

Yours annoyingly,
bedshaped

p.s.
This is the first time in a long while that I feel my depression biting at my heels again. Thank you so much for that.