As mentioned in the previous post, 2013 has been a good year so far.
Everything seems tickety-boo. Sorted out a new flat with a diamond flatmate, the mood has been great, I've got into a great routine at work where I get things done in good time and I'm actually quite happy.
I've been telling people how great everything's been...and there's my problem.
As soon as I share a bit of happiness, as soon as I feel good about myself and life in general I share this and it's like a beacon to the pricks of the world.
I might as well have taken out an advert in "Obstenant Egocentric Arsehole Monthly" saying "As things are going so well here's an open invitation to any pea-brained pillock with an attitude problem to kick me in the bollocks! Here! I've painted a target for you so that you can see it from your vantage point of being up your own arse!"
And life comes back to normal.
I was a very lucky boy. When it came to leaving school I didn't just go wide eyed into the big bad world to see where it took me. I knew. Since being at least 8 years old I wanted to be a radio presenter. I loved listening to Manchester's Piccadilly Radio. I listened all day and all night. Timmy Mallett was my first favourite and when a lad called Mark Lupton from 2 years above me at St. Dunstan's won the top 10 singles on his show I was insanely jealous! My teenage insomnia was never a problem because it meant I could listen to ALL of the Late Night Funster Show, all the way through to 2am. I had a notebook full of ideas for features and would walk around Moston with my Walkman filling the gaps between tracks on whatever album I was wearing out with (eventually) perfectly timed links. In 1991, aged 15, I started my own weekly show on Northern Air Hospital Radio and from that moment I was regularly broadcasting, joining the hospital radio station in my uni town, the univer...
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