TWO DOWN

In the space of two nights, I've eliminated two more girls from my enquiries. Well, one at least. Very sweet girl - religious, rabbi's daughter, pretty. But, sadly, about as exciting as a wet weekend in Blackpool when the casinos and rollercoasters are closed for maintenance.

Drinks with Natalie this evening didn't fare much better. She was in one of her wierder moods - understandable, perhaps, given that one of her closest friends is lying comatosed in hospital after a stroke and her sister has cancer. I'll give her one more chance.

As for me, I feel totally uninspired. I feel like I have a million things to do - job applications, book pitches, DIY - yet I'm doing none of them. Everything gets put off till the next day or week. I feel like I'm swimming in mud. I go through my days with the same sensation I have when watching late-night trashy TV: I'm tired and I know I should go to bed, but I just can't be arsed. And the less I can be arsed, the more I hate the fact that I'm going nowhere.

Meanwhile, time is ticking. I've been back in this forever-frustrating country for four months now. And I'm still not happy (will I ever be able to achieve my ambitions here?). Today, I got a rejection letter for another reporter's job - for regional news. I never really wanted the job, but I kept the letter. Perhaps one day I'll have enough of them to show "Rejection" as my Turner Prize offering.

I might just have to go away again. Not to run away from anything. I'd be running to something; happiness, fulfillment maybe. At least my life would once again be my own.