Monday 2nd September 2024, 18.35:

Yesterday morning, on the tee box of the 3rd hole of the Championship Course at Branston Golf & Country Club, I found myself insisting to my good friend Charlie Beard that Autumn had already begun, assuming that the start of September coincided with the beginning of Autumn, whilst he was adamant that it was still Summer. A quick google search determined that he was correct (apparently Autumn begins officially on Sunday 22nd September, if you’re interested), although now, as I sit in my shed looking out into a rain-soaked garden, I wonder what difference it makes anyway, since the English weather seems to grow more and more unpredictable with each passing year. 

Welcome, then, to a week in the life of Harold. I thought it might be nice to write this as I haven’t done a normal blog in some time now, although I expect I’ll most likely be talking to myself, since I’ve noticed recently that my circle of friends has shrunk quite considerably. I don’t bemoan it, as the friendships that remain are much stronger and more fulfilling than those I maintained during my younger years, but it still seems unusual that I have come to rely on such a small group of people, and I have to keep reminding myself that actually, at the ripe old age of twenty five, it is entirely normal. Gosh, there’s that six letter word again – I hope this blog doesn’t accidentally turn out to be an accidental admission of ordinariness. 

So then, to the day I’ve had so far. I awoke at 06.00, which is my usual alarm time nowadays, and I was in the gym by 06.30. I tried a new gym today (Gym Unity in Burton, if you’re interested), as the Personal Trainer I was seeing at Branston has moved there, so I thought I’d give it a go. It’s a bit more rough and ready than Branston (a “spit and sawdust” gym as Jack, my PT, put it delicately), but it’s also around 80% cheaper, so I suppose that was to be expected. I won’t be making a habit of going there, but I will have to endure it once a week, as I quite like Jack and would like to continue working with him. I did some cardio to warm up before Jack put me through a gruelling chest session, meaning I left at 08.00 feeling achy but raring to go. 

I grabbed myself a Starbucks (a large latte with skimmed milk and sugar free caramel, because I am nothing if not a skinny queen) on the way home, had Weetabix for breakfast and logged on to my work laptops just before 09.00. One of the most annoying things about working as a consultant in the Public Sector is that you have your own laptop, but then you also have to have a separate one, for security reasons, for whichever Government department you’re currently working in, so you end up lugging two laptops around all the time. First world problems, I suppose. Hayley and Donna are away for the week, so it is just myself and the dogs, and because work wasn’t very busy, I felt quite alone today. I rarely feel lonely anymore, which is very nice, but I find myself feeling alone more often. It is not always a bad thing, as I’ve grown to enjoy my alone time, but it’s not particularly enjoyable when I’m supposed to be working, which means I can’t really do anything else to fill the void – first world problem number two. 

I nipped for an eye test late this afternoon before coming home, feeding the dogs and making myself scrambled eggs on toast for tea. I’ve gotten into the habit of watching an episode of Richard Osman’s House of Games whilst I eat my meals, so I’ve ended up watching something ridiculous like 70 episodes in the last six weeks. I think I like the show because it’s just the right level of a challenge, as in, not so easy that it bores you, but not so difficult as to make it pointless (if you’ll pardon the pun). After dinner, I read a few chapters of The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green, which I am thoroughly enjoying so far, before deciding to make a start on this. 

For the rest of my evening, I imagine I’ll read some more, perhaps play a bit of Grand Theft Auto, and then pack my suitcase. I’m off to Cardiff tomorrow for a few days for some work meetings, catching the 07.52 from Burton, but I’m hoping to get a quick run in before I head off, so I’ll need an early night to be ready for my 06.00 start. 

Speak to you later. H x

Tuesday 3rd September 2024, 08.45: 

More often than not, I despise train journeys. They’re often late, overcrowded, far too warm and far too expensive. However, I do quite enjoy the train when it’s for a work journey, say to London or, in today’s instance, Cardiff. Once rush hour passes, they’re much quieter, and it gives me an opportunity to relax, reflect, read, and listen to music or a podcast. Sometimes I find myself just sitting quietly and looking out of the window for a few minutes, smiling at the unrivalled beauty of the English countryside. 

I’ve read a few chapters of Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro so far on this journey, and I’m now about halfway through the book. I’ve read a few of Ishiguro’s novels before, and I absolutely adore his writing style, and this book is no different. I have been looking out of the window for a bit, pondering whether to continue reading or listen to a podcast. I think I’m going to opt for the latter, and find a good Desert Island Discs episode to listen to. I listened to George Michael’s episode the other day, which felt a bit melancholy considering he’s sadly no longer with us, but it served as an apt reminder of the beauty & joy he brought to the world, and also made me realise how Desert Island Discs has managed to remain so successful for so long. If you’ve never listened to it before, I implore you to do so. 

Catch up with you later. H x

Wednesday 4th September 2024, 18.25:

I’m sitting on the train home next to my colleague Carol, bored out of my mind. I’m not really in the mood to read my book, and I’ve already listened to an episode of Desert Island Discs (Sandi Toksvig, would recommend), so I’ve spent the last half an hour taking pictures of myself with ridiculous Snapchat filters and sending them to my friends. 

Speaking of Snapchat, I had a debate with a colleague in Cardiff (for context, he’s 29, so quite old) because he thought it’s immature to still use Snapchat at my age. Personally, I think that’s just snobbishness, born from a desire to emphasise a maturity that is likely lacking somewhat. Snapchat is harmless and it’s fun – I like to see what my friends are up to, and see where they are and ask how they are, so does it really matter if I use Snapchat to do that? The eagerness to “grow up”, which seems to envelop so many of us nowadays, should be resisted at all costs. As for my colleague, I trust he will one day realise that I am right, as most people often do. 

Cardiff itself was fun. It was nice to finally see some colleagues which, despite being at PwC for 10 months now, I still hadn’t had the opportunity to meet in person. I’m a staunch defender of hybrid working, but I still believe it’s important to get into the office and meet people in the flesh, especially if they’re based in a different location to you. I had some interesting conversations, I learned a lot about the people I work with (some good, some bad, some boring) and I have come away with a renewed zest to get out there and meet new people. 

After work on Tuesday, I went for some drinks with about half a dozen of said colleagues, and it was nice to get the low-down on life at PwC in Cardiff. Later this month we have a teamwide gathering planned in Belfast, where all sixty or so of us will spend the day in the office together, partaking in “team bonding” exercises, before we head out for drinks in the evening, so we spent a while discussing that, as everyone seems to be pretty excited about it. In fairness, it’s essentially a fully expensed piss up, so I’m quite excited about it too. After a few drinks, our Cardiff colleagues decided to head home, so Carol and I headed back to our hotel (the Hilton, obviously darling) for some dinner. I’d say Carol is early 50’s, a few years older than my Mum perhaps, and she’s a lovely, polite woman who I get on really well with (she and her son marched in Birmingham Pride with Hayals and I), so my highlight of the week (I know it’s only Wednesday, but this will not be beaten) was Carol’s response when I politely advised her that we’d already used up our daily expense allowance – “fuck it, I’m having a steak anyway”. 

Although I have enjoyed Cardiff, I am looking forward to getting home. My project isn’t particularly busy at the moment, so I spent most of today either playing Chess on my phone or asking ChatGPT how I can get better at Chess, and it’s one of those situations where I somehow feel more tired for having done very little? I’m sure that’s an actual thing and I’m not making it up. In my old age, I also find it increasingly difficult to be away from Lord Fozzington, even if it’s only for a day or two. I loved my previous dog immensely, but I adore Forest in a way I’ve never encountered before, which I think is probably due to him entering my life at such a vulnerable and uncertain time. Perhaps that’s a topic for another blog entirely. 

It has not escaped me that this blog is already too long, and it’s only Wednesday, so I’m going to shut up for now. Speak soon. H x

Thursday 5th September 2024, 21.20: 

I had a lie-in this morning. I see the lie in as a sort of nemesis of mine, the destroyer of energy and productivity. It’s funny, and by funny I mean ridiculous, because we all know that lounging in bed makes us feel sluggish and deprives us of energy, yet it is something that we all seem to crave, just that extra five minutes before we get up, that extra hour on a Saturday. I suppose it makes sense, as most things we crave are never good for us, but every time I let myself lie in, I can’t help but berate myself for allowing myself to be defeated. Therefore, I resolved to take a different approach today. Yes, I had a lie-in (my usual 6am start replaced by a rather lazy 8.30am), but I still tidied my room, cleaned the kitchen, walked the dog, went to the gym and did everything else that I expected of myself throughout the day. I think it was fair, therefore, to allow myself a bit of leeway, especially when you also consider that I had spent five hours on trains across two days, met several people I’d never met before (which drains any social battery, never mind that of an autistic person), and still done everything else I usually do (exercise, read, write etc). So, did I lie in? Yes. But did I deserve it? Yes, yes I did. 

It hasn’t been a particularly busy day at work, so I’ve been lounging about for most of the day, reading or playing Grand Theft Auto. I had my friend Jack over for dinner, so I cooked us sticky honey chicken with rice and veg in a Chinese style sauce. We realised as we were talking that this was the first time I had seen him properly since my birthday, which was six months ago, so I suppose that shows how quickly time really does fly when you’re having fun. Well, Jack insisted we have bumped into each other in the pub since then, but if we have then, perhaps unsurprisingly, I have no recollection of it. When I was younger, I never understood why my Mum rarely saw her friends, as I would argue that you have your evenings and weekends free, so you have ample time to spare. Now, however, it makes perfect sense – life just gets in the way. Nonetheless, it was delightful to have Jack for dinner and we both thoroughly enjoyed catching up with each other. Hopefully we’ll make it slightly more regular than bi-annual moving forward. 

As I write, I am sitting in my shed with my trusty sidekick Forest by my side, listening to the wind blow through the trees in the garden and thinking about a million different things at once. I listened to a podcast earlier today that emphasised the need to focus on enjoying life in the present, as opposed to assuming you’ll be happy in the future once you find the perfect job or house or partner or whatever else it is you desire, and it made me happy because I think I am doing a bloody good job of enjoying the present, which I hope is obvious throughout this piece. There are plenty of things I long for (a partner, my own apartment, a more fulfilling job, to be debt free), but they will be additions to what is already a very contented life, and for that I am both grateful and quite proud of myself. 

Time to head inside. Speak to you tomorrow. H x

Friday 6th September 2024, 08.10: 

There are few things in life that give me as much pleasure as sitting in the clubhouse with a coffee, looking out onto the green of the 18th hole. For those of you who don’t know, I’m a member at Branston Golf & Country Club, which I like to say as often as possible as it makes me sound far more middle class than I actually am. The membership isn’t cheap, but there’s a gym above the clubhouse that is included in the monthly price, which I visit most mornings, so it works out reasonably good value for money. Well, at least that’s how I justify it to myself anyway. This morning I need to be in Burton at 09.30 for an appointment at Specsavers (I’m trying contact lenses again), so I thought it made sense to grab a coffee and chill for an hour in the clubhouse rather than going home to come back again twenty minutes later. I’ve got both of my work laptops with me just in case someone contacts me, but since that is highly unlikely, I’m probably just going to read for a bit. 

Since starting with my personal trainer, I’ve started to measure my body fat percentage instead of my weight, which is arguably a much healthier way of judging my progress. It was up a little bit this morning since the last time I measured, which is disappointing, but only by 0.2%, so I’m not going to cry, especially since I have been absolutely woeful with my eating. Nonetheless, I still feel super motivated to double down with clean eating & exercise, which is a really nice feeling, since even minor setbacks like these used to be enough to send me into a spiral of depression back in the bad old days. 

The first test of this will come tonight, as I’m having dinner at my friend Jordan’s house and his current plan is to order a curry, which you’d assume would make my previous comments redundant. However, I’m not trying to cut out nice/unhealthy food altogether, rather I’m trying to moderate my intake, so my plan, therefore, is to have a curry, but have a smaller portion, or try and order a slightly healthier dish, or whatever else, you get the idea. We’ll see how it goes, but regardless, it will be nice to see Jordan, as I cannot remember the last time I saw him. 

Time to read for a bit. Chow. H x

Saturday 7th September 2024, 16.35: 

I’m sitting in my shed again. It’s rapidly becoming something of a sanctuary for me, especially since I don’t allow myself to have my phone in here (I’m writing this on my MacBook), and I’m very grateful to have this space. I’ve just been reading Welcome to the Hyunam-Dong Bookshop by Hwang Bo-Reum, which is the book my friends and I have selected for our inaugural Book Club meeting later this month. Elia, Lana, Sian and I have been saying for a while now how we all want to spend more time reading, so I suggested a monthly Book Club, and the girls enthusiastically agreed. It will probably soon become just another excuse for us to drink wine and gossip, but if it motivates us to read a bit more then I’ll be content. I suggested this novel for our first book as it has been on my reading list for a while and, having recently finished, and thoroughly enjoyed, Days at the Morisaki Bookshop by Satoshi Yagisawa, I thought I’d suggest something with similar, somewhat wholesome vibes, and I’m loving it so far. I hope the girls are too, otherwise our first Book Club meeting might well be our last. 

I played a round of golf this morning with my good friends Charlie and Ross and, although this is going to sound quite unbelievable, I genuinely played the best I have ever played. I shot 99 (my second lowest ever score) and 41 points (my highest ever stableford total), and with several pars and bogeys in there, my game felt incredible. I’m not quite sure what it was that I did different, although I have a feeling that I struck a better balance between playing with concentration and freedom – I often find myself either concentrating too much, and therefore overthinking it and fucking it up, or playing with so much freedom that I don’t concentrate at all, and therefore underthinking it and fucking it up. Today, I was focused but relaxed, and I think that might be the key moving forward. Either that or I’ll go and shoot 124 the next time I play, since I’m infamous for my inconsistency, both in golf and in most areas of my life, actually, come to think of it. However, whilst I’m immensely happy with my round today, I’ve not so much shot myself in the foot as doused it in petrol and set fire to it, as I’m supposed to be playing in a competition tomorrow, but today’s round will definitely lower my handicap, probably quite significantly, therefore giving me less chance of winning the competition. Oh well, we can’t have it all, and even if I fuck it up tomorrow, I’ll end the weekend happy that I played my best round of golf so far this year, in the glorious English September drizzle, with my wonderful friends for company (Sam was supposed to play but didn’t show up, so in case he is reading this, fuck you Sam). 

My handicap might end up proving an irrelevance anyway, as I’m attending my friend Keeley’s 30th birthday party this evening, and I’m slightly hesitant that this means I will be in no fit state to tee off at 07.36 tomorrow. I’ve been telling myself all week that I will drive to the event, stay for an hour or so and have a few pints, before heading home at a sensible time (if such a thing is possible), but now the time approaches, I feel my mood swinging slowly, but quite surely, towards the “lets get fucked up” end of Harold’s Drinking Scale. I mean, we all know how it goes don’t we – one minute you’re “reluctantly” acquiescing to someone’s offer to buy you a third pint, the next minute you’re in the back of an Uber at 1.30am asking the driver if you should text him again, because you miss him, despite knowing he probably has your number blocked. No? Is that not a universal experience? Ah well, just me then. Anyway, let’s just see how it goes. Either way, happy birthday Keeley! 

Oh, before I go, last night I ordered a Lamb Tikka Rogan Josh, Cheese & Garlic Naan and a Pilau Rice, somewhat failing in my goal of ordering a healthier dish. However, I did only eat half of it, so I achieved my goal of having a smaller portion. That seems justifiable, right? No? Oh fuck it, we can’t be good all of the time. Regardless, I had a good catch up with Jordan and his boyfriend Sam and thoroughly enjoyed my evening, and that’s the most important thing. 

It has taken me half an hour to write that. What a waste of my fucking time. Speak to you tomorrow. H x 

Sunday 8th September 2024, 19.10: 

Well, what a fucking disappointment of a day. First of all, you’ll be proud to know that I only had 3 pints yesterday evening and was home by around 9pm, so the sensible side of Harold prevailed. However, it mattered not, as I woke up this morning feeling sick with a splitting headache anyway. I had to cancel golf and lunch, and for those of you who know me best, you’ll know that, for me, cancelling lunch is akin to an act of terrorism. Instead, I have spent most of the day in bed, unable to fall asleep but unable to open my eyes because even the minimal amount of light sneaking in through my closed curtains was enough to cause immense pain. I hate being ill, nominally because it isn’t very nice to be in pain, but mainly because it’s a complete waste of my time and I can’t do anything useful, productive or enjoyable. I can handle pain, but I cannot handle ineffectuality. On the bright side, it was nice to have a few drinks to celebrate Keeley’s birthday with her last night, although if I’d known I was going to be ill today regardless, I’d have certainly had more than three pints. 

So, that’s it, a rather anticlimactic end to what has otherwise been quite a nice week. I now find myself sitting with my Mother and Lord Fozzington, watching the quarter-finals of the Flanders Darts Trophy on television. Hayley finds herself cheering for Dirk van Duijvenbode, not because she likes him, or even knows who he is, but because his opponent is Ricardo Pietreczko, and she intensely dislikes this chap because he was once quite rude and aggressive towards Luke Littler after he suffered defeat at the hands of the teenage sensation. So, the next time you wonder how I manage to hold grudges so well, remember that little insight into the mind of babs. 

How was your week? Do get in touch, I’d genuinely love to hear about it. Speak soon. H x

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