Down

I'm down. At a low ebb. Here again - now I'm back in this dull place where everything's grey and nothing's even remotely interesting, it seems like I've never been out of here.

How did I get here? Don't know, don't care. I'm ailing for a cold. Can feel it trickling down the inside of my throat, on the left side, lurking in the corridors on either side of my nose, creeping into my brain and killing off any inkling of desire.

I'm low. Nearly crashed out of work early. Would have done but got a call from my immediate boss - the only decent guy in the place - just after five. He's doing his best to rally me, trying to tell me there's still some hope of getting me across the Channel. Good of him. Suppose it's all he can do - keep the proverbial carrot in view. Didn't like to let on that it's already too late. It's already too obvious that, apart from him, all the managers are a bunch of no-hopers. Only a truly excellent offer will prise me away now from my cast iron Dutch contract-without-end. Let them pay to get rid of me...

Fools. You could have had me for a song and wrung every last drop out of me. Instead, you knock my motivation on the head with a shovel and leave me limping into the office nine-thirty till five - if you're lucky. Judging by the way I feel right now, you might not be. If my spirit hadn't sunk below sea level (actually not very far in these parts...), I'd be able to fight off this looming cold or flu. I still might. But tonight I just feel down, down, down.

And telling myself I'm lucky not to be on a life support machine or crawling out from under my earthquake-crushed house for the second time in three months doesn't help. I just feel down.