I could go on for hours and I probably will.

You know when you decide to watch a film but can't choose what to watch? This blog is a bit like that; I want to write one but don't really have much to say. With films you often go to a default; for example girls might choose The Notebook or Dirty Dancing, and lads may choose Die Hard or Rocky. (Assuming we live in a girls wear pink, boys wear blue, girls like dolls, boys like cars sort of world.) If that pattern of reverting to default mode transcends topics I will probably start talking about how good looking I've made up I am or whinge about something. Probably a bit of both and by the end of the blog we'll all almost certainly agree that I should have just watched a film instead. (My go to films are Disney or Garden State.)



First up, the DBS. It's been delayed. Again. Why? The neurosurgeon is going on holiday. Wonderful. It's only an extra two weeks to wait though; my new date for surgery is 18 April. I went for a final consultation on Monday and they seem increasingly less optimistic about how much good this will do unfortunately. But they're willing to try it and so am I so we'll see what happens. At the very worst I will have a battery in my chest and some wires in my brain. I've decided to call the device Eva. (From the film Wall-e, one of my go to-s, because if it works Eva will teach me how to dance like in the film, or at least use cutlery. The two are probably interchangeable although I admit the latter would make for a pretty rubbish film.)



I've been speaking to a couple of people at the Virgin Money headquarters in Gosforth and they have some temporary contracts coming up. Everybody I have spoken to has been very welcoming and speaks very highly of the bank so I I am very hopeful. My CV has been put forward for these roles and hopefully I'll get an interview within the next couple of months. The caveat? The DBS needs to work; using a mouse and keyboard and being able to write are pretty inescapable in an office job. The other condition is of course firstly getting an interview and then being offered a job. I've had three years out of work now and have talked absolute nonsense for most of it. I suppose it's a blessing in disguise having the DBS just to make sure there is still a brain in there.



There has been one mind blowing development of late; I've begun my modelling career. (I know, only just begun, mind blowing right?) Well, it's more of a job than a career at this stage. And it's unpaid. But it still counts! Basically, a final year photography student has decided to do her end of year project on the emotional challenges of MS and how they are actually very reflective of the emotional challenges faced by everyone. We all cry, laugh, get bored, socialise at different times in our lives.  I know what you're thinking and I must admit I was a little disappointed when I found out this student has a husband and two children but she is very nice all the same. I think she may be a little shy so I will not tell you that her name is Katherine and shortly after our first meeting she went to Debenhams after a mixup at the till with some knickers on a previous visit. She likes to take photos of me doing the day-to-day activities I do. As they say, if the face fits.



Next, I have a secret to tell you: somewhere, deep down within me, knows I am not the best looking man on the planet. I'm worried that I come across as the most arrogant, delusional prick imaginable when I go on about how great I look. It's a joke, and a coping mechanism. Don't get me wrong, I look pretty fantastic but there are probably better looking men out there. In truth, I'm not even the best looking one amongst my friends or possibly even my extended family. (Absolutely definitely am within the house though!) A lot of my self-confidence is actually to mask how much I hate the MS. Plus, if I say it often enough some people will start to believe me!



Finally, as promised,  a whinge. They've been talking on the radio about esports. This is playing sport-based computer games and apparently esport is set to become the fifth most popular sport in the world within a couple of decades. Shut up, you're sat in your underpants by yourself playing on the computer. That's not a fucking sport. Is there an Olympic gold medal for Spiro the Dragon? No.



(The title is a line from Town Called Malice by The Jam. Great record.)