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They tell me that pessimism is better, as you will never be disappointed, apparently. Well, I spent most of yesterday in a state of mild misery at the prospect of returning to my office after two weeks of glorious freedom in which I finished a book, slept til 10:30 many times and generally watched a large amount of television.

And as a result, I pretty much wrote off the day on television, the internet and an utterly futile walk to the shop. About the only thing I can say I achieved was a langthy blog entry about the state of ITV. (ALTHOUGH! I have had reports of two whole human people watching the first episode of Demons as a result of that blog. So, you know, it's good to know I make a difference. They both tell me it was on the poor side of average, but never mind.)

Anyway, yeah, I was pretty miserable yesterday. Then I hauled my arse into the office, had some idle banter, sent some inane Twitter messages and nearly froze to death due to the lack of heating, and you know what? I actually felt better.

Was this because work was good? Well, no. But it was nowhere near as bad as I expected. Admittedly, there would have had to be public floggings, the forced swallowing of whole nails and possibly some kind of display involving rats devouring a carcass for it to actually lift down to my expectations.

But still, upside! Things could have been worse!

I'm still not saying that pessimism prevents disappointment, though. I spent all day waiting for an email and the damn thing didn't come, so I was still disappointed. Plus it's meant to be even colder tomorrow. Dammit.

Last night, ITV debuted a new show called Demons. It features a teenager plucked from his real life to fight supernatural evil, and seems mostly to be fairly blatantly cribbed from Buffy, with its only real notable point being that they've somehow managed to cast Philip Glenister (aka Gene Hunt from Life On Mars/Ashes To Ashes), presumably by chucking money at him.

(I'm now going to cut below to a new screen, as this post ended up being so long that it has an appendix. Don't say I didn't warn you.)

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After a treble-Ascotload of betting, the new Doctor Who is... Matt Smith, a relatively low profile actor who wasn't even "in the frame" until approximately yesterday. I like to think that was when he told his friends and family, who all proceeded to rush out and place gigantic bets before anyone noticed and slashed the odds.

Anyway, he's also the youngest person ever to play the part, and has a somewhat odd hair style. I say that because these are the two points that the reliably negative internet community have seized upon as their prime excuses to whine and moan like little bitches.

Note that I'm not saying those are baseless concerns. I can see the point that his youthful appearance might make it harder to convincingly instill the character with gravitas at the appropriate times, which has been pivotal to the success of the revived series.

But, you know, let's wait until we see his episodes before we damn him completely based upon his complexion and hairstyle. We, the internet fanbase, may have valid worries, but since they can be solved with good acting and a haircut, I hardly think they're a crippling blow. It's still being written and overseen by Stephen Moffat, who has written some amazing episodes in the last four years, so it's not as if all reasons to be optimistic have just been thrown out in a stinking bin bag.

Personally, I don't have a strong opinion on the guy, as I've not seen him in anything. Apparently he played the lead in a political drama called Party Animals, and if anyone from the BBC happens to read this, now would probably be a good time to repeat it. I'd imagine a good amount of the Doctor Who fan community would probably watch for "research purposes". But yeah, my main reaction upon seeing his unveiling was "Hm, no idea who that is. Odd haircut, looks a bit young, but seems a nice enough chap, we'll see."

(Followed, an hour or two later, by "Could everyone please stop moaning, for fuck's sake" upon reading some of the internet reaction.)

But we've still another four Tennant episodes to go, and I suspect they'll continue to drip-feed us little Who-related tidbits over the course of the year, to make sure it never slips from our minds despite the small number of episodes. Look for the announcement of the new companion in a few months time, probably shortly before or shortly after the next special.

For a short spell, overnight, I believed that I'd lost my camera. This was proven to be a lie earlier, when I randomly stamped upon a rolled up t-shirt and found it to contain a cuboid block of some kind. You can probably guess what that turned out to be.

Nonetheless, once expensive electronic equipment starts to go missing, I decided this is an omen of some kind that I should endeavour to clean up my room, which has threatened recently to vanish completely beneath an epic pile of dust, worn clothing and half-used bits of paper.

So, that was pretty much what I did, all day. Pausing to go shopping and watch the occasional DVD when it all got too much. I nearly choked on dust a few times, and also located a dusty white towel in a carrier bag that I have no recollection of previously owning. And then I put some stuff in the washing machine to try and get the dust out. Hectic day, all told.

I was merrily watching a Doctor Who DVD during one of my breaks (The Runaway Bride from Christmas 2006, should anyone care), and then flicked back on to the internet, only to quickly have my nerd senses prickled by mutterings of "new Doctor Who" among a few folk on my Twitter.

It turns out, they were talking about this - the impending announcement of the 11th Doctor Who actor, in documentary form, tomorrow evening at 5:35PM on BBC1. And presumably forever after on the iPlayer.

Needless to say, I was excited. And since it seems unsporting not to have one last punt, I think it'll probably be Paterson Joseph, as all the signs point that way, but things have gotten so muddied that I wouldn't be surprised to find out it's someone else entirely. Very excited.

Now, back to the tidying. I have managed to move all the crap from my floor to my desk and bed, now I just need to either find somewhere to put it or, um, probably chuck it back on the floor. Cannot wait.

It's now sixteen hours into 2009 and nothing has yet gone horribly wrong. Another few blog posts have been lovingly crafted, I've got a vague idea of what I need to do to keep my writing efforts rolling along and we managed to see the fireworks over the London Eye last night.

You'd think that would be easy enough, but it actually marks a considerable progression from last year, when we managed to position ourselves in just the right place to have both the Eye and the fireworks obscured by an annoyingly placed wall of smoke. (In fact, here's the year-old blog entry moaning about it.) So, this year, I am able to gleefully report that the fireworks were indeed pretty impressive. Perhaps not quite as good as the ones I saw at the Hindu temple for Diwali earlier in the year, but decent.

I would put some resolutions in here, but I imagine I'll cover them in future entries. They involve editing a novel, getting a new computer and possibly doing some exercise. And to be honest, those aren't so much resolutions as a general task list. Especially the computer one, as my current machine is nearly seven years old and not going to last much longer.

Oh, and I'm currently trying to watch a whole series of Top Gear before it is deleted from iPlayer. Only four episodes to go. This whole iPlayer-deadline thing is a little annoying as it has turned watching TV into a deadline-orientated activity. And like so often happens with me and deadlines, this has meant doing it all at the last minute in a rush. I may do a Top Gear-based blog entry once I've finished. (Or, indeed, if I finish.)

Apologies if my blog and/or Twitter presence is minimal for the next few days. I am leaving my girlfriend's place and returning to my own, and last I checked the internet there was broken. So you may not hear from me again until Monday, when I return to work. And yeah, I'm looking forward to that so much that it hurts a little.