Take away the adjectives, and you are left with the facts . . . .

I decided to swerve my usual cycling club run at the weekend for a night of standing in a pub with my mate Goodlet on the quiz machine in wetherspoons. I guess I had a laugh at the time; and the rest of the night is somewhat of a blur; I blame cheeky vimto. I punished my self with an hour long tubo session last night; but I still can't help but feel guilty. I don't think I should drink any more. I say it...too much; but I really can't deal with hangovers. I feel rotten for days after. Alcohol is a depressant, and boy do I feel depressed right now. I'm not sure if it's because I've just been handing CV's out in Liverpool; I handed two out, in four attempts- the two failed attempts, were basically them saying, 'sorry, we've already got staff'- but I'm interpreting it as, "sorry, but you're an ugly bastard".

****

I started writing this earlier on, in a bit of a foul mood. I had to dash out, as I was on a time limit.  I had to go the gym; and I had to pick Evelyn up from school. I feel alot better after my gym session; if a little sore. A mate of my from college works in the place; and from the looks of things he knows how to build muscle; which is exactly what I'm looking to do over the coming months. I want to sort my posture out; by working my back more than my chest; work my upper body, because it's been neglected to fuck with all this cycling, and if I carry on, I'll do some serious damage to my back. I also want to build muscle the upper regions to complement my legs, which have had their fair share of working out over the past three years.  So yeah; evident inferiority complex right there. I feel repulsive to the opposite sex; I am too fat; despite losing a mammoth amount of weight- the job is not finished. Even if I'd lost the weight, I'm not sure I'd ever be confident. I guess this all stems back to Junior school; Fancying a girl like hell; only to have her toy with me; and pursue all my friends; then going out with another girl, only to come back off holiday to find out she dumped me, and was with another person. Despite it being early in my love-life operations; I feel these moments  had a devastating impact on my self consciousness to this date. I remember in Primary school, I fancied a girl called Sarah Evans; and I have not seen her since primary school. I occasionally wonder what happened to her. If I carry on at this rate, I'll be going all "high fidelity" and I don't think now is the right time.

 I'm pretty much in obsession mode with this interview. I don't really need to prepare as such; I'm all prepared up to the max, from my previous attempts. I honestly think, if I could just lose 2 more stone before interview, I'd have a better chance  There's little I can do from now until then- maybe half a stone max- I am not interested in these crash diets though. I need to just accept it, and hope that they can see through the extra pounds. But then, the realist in my chirps in with "I'd pick skinny over a fatty if I was interviewing"- .I'm working on my weaknesses; which is the Maths side of things. I'm pretty sure it'll be basic stuff; which I'm covering at the moment in my adult numeracy course (Maths for mongs)  I guess I'm letting my weight manifest, along with my desire for a career at sea. Fundamentally, I yearn for acceptance. My daughter has just came in, and told me that she smells like a man.(She'd found my aftershave) - Doing my weekly fatherly duties; collect her from school; feed her, and then her mum picks her up. That's another thing that troubles me, but I don't feel like going into to it at all. In English literature; in our first lesson, we did a Poem, by Roger Mc Gough, called 'the railings'. I thought it was shit at the time. 'I can write better than this, this is shit' I thought, and to be honest, I still don't really rate the poem; as face value. What was drawn towards was the relationship that the poet had with his son. I sort of felt like I could relate to the father in the  Poem. I pretty much feel like a fish out of water when I'm around Evelyn. I go down to her school to pick her up; and I just want to get away from the place, I don't belong there; and I don't want to belong there. I overhear other street urchin tip-rat parents; with their multitudes of spawn; blathering on inanely about all sorts of crap; from parenting skills to x factor opinions, and what they did at the weekend. I grind my teeth!  Although I despise it so much; I still do it every week. Evelyn loves it when I pick her up; and I think she enjoys challenging my authority; apparently "mummy is the boss" - and she is, but I just can't carry on and watch my daughter dawdling along; and gawping at people across the road. I always feel uneasy when a kid is gawping at me on a bus; or what not. So am I wrong to tell my daughter that starring at people for longer than a few seconds is not on? "It's fine to look at people, but to keep doing it, for a long time is wrong, and you might upset people" I told her. "I can look at anyone I want" she sternly responded.
I did tell her mother; but apparently "It's what 4 year olds do"   I know I'm a shit dad; I was not ready for fatherhood; and I'm still not ready for it now. I am at least making an effort, even if some people would look at it a farcical level of input. I'm never going to be the paterfamilias! There's worse fathers out there than me, let me tell you. The fact I'm talking about it, and that I feel guilty that I'm not there for her more, hardly makes it forgiveable but I've got my life to live; her mother has a partner - I love Evie to bits; but at arms length is probably the best for all parties. Hopefully, when I'm where I want to be career wise; my relationship with Evelyn will flourish; I'll be able to provide more than a few hours a week. I can sleep knowing she's having a decent upbringing, surrounded by love.

The Birkenhead Drill

Seen the bastardized Hollywood piece of shit that is "Titanic"?  Well, the women and children first ehtos was introduced after the sinking of the HMS  Birkenhead.  The soldiers on board the stricken vessel were actually ordered to stay on the deck up until the moment the boat went under, to give the kids and bitches a fighting chance. Now that's what I call disciplined.

 Rudyard Kipling's "The Birkenhead Drill"

To take your chance in the thick of a rush, with firing all about,
Is nothing so bad when you've cover to 'and, an' leave an' likin' to shout;
But to stand an' be still to the Birken'ead drill is a damn tough bullet to chew,
An' they done it, the Jollies -- 'Er Majesty's Jollies -- soldier an' sailor too!
Their work was done when it 'adn't begun; they was younger nor me an' you;
Their choice it was plain between drownin' in 'eaps an' bein' mopped by the screw,
So they stood an' was still to the Birken'ead drill, soldier an' sailor too

I love the way the pronunciation of the H is dropped. Fascinating stuff.

So that's today's slice of naval history eaten.

Good news from the doctors today; My blood pressure is back down to normal. Neither good, nor bad news from the rheumotology specialist. He's happy to dismiss me a gout sufferer; should my blood test on Monday not come back abnormal. I'm keeping everything crossed. Recruitment for the R.F.A is closed. I've applied for the Royal Navy in the 'comms branch.  I've already aced the RT test, so it will shave off 12 months for the waiting time. It'll give me time to get into shape; which I am gradually doing. After I initially applied for the Royal Navy earlier in the month, I tried to complete the 2.4k run, which I failed miserably at; 14 mins was my time. I ran it again with my Friend Sean as a pacemaker and did it in 12; so I'm only 30 seconds off. I'm not going to get caught up with speed and times just yet. I went for a 4 mile run two nights ago, and felt it the day after!  I've got a long way to go, so I will now concentrate on the weight loss aspects. I'm currently 19st 13LB- Three years ago today, I was 26st 7lb. My plateau was 21st, which I was loitering about at during the past year, it's time to press on.

Here's some further reading on the HMS Birkenhead- http://www.submerged.co.uk/birkenhead.php