Very Dutty

I know it's all going to end soon, but after two cold but strangely warm days, I got out of bed this morning to flurries of snow (I almost wrote slurries of flow), overcast skies and a wind chill back in the minuses. I've always been a sunshine kind of person  and I'm wondering if this prolonged shit weather coupled with my unemployment has led me down the depression path. The reason I say this is because I was looking at one of those things people post on Facebook about depression and I appear to tick most of the boxes at the moment (but saying that, I tick half of the boxes when I think I'm happy, so who knows?).

So, when life feels like a big bucket of stinky shit, the best thing to do is go to Sainsbury's. I figured if it really annoyed me it would take my mind off how bloody despairing I'm feeling at the moment.

For those with little or no time to read this here is an abridged version: drive, horror, police, Sainsbury's, history repeating itself, having the trolley stolen. See you next time.

Right, here's what happened in some detail:

I got in the car. We both hate the Zafira. Not only is it common it's also about as distinct as someone wearing Burberry on King's Heath (substitute this place with any place where you live that has the same) and it's totally practical, serves its purpose, but it's just so bloody ubiquitous and some of the people who own them can't drive for toffee. Anyhow, I'm driving to Duston with a black Zafira stuck up my arse, so I deliberately dropped my speed to 27mph. I actually think he got close enough to lick my number plate. So I slowed down to 25mph and he overtook me on a road that wasn't wide enough for two cars let alone an overtaking manoeuvre. My first thought was he was a gormless twat, then I thought that maybe his wife was being rushed to hospital or one of his kids was dying - so I swerved out to cut him up.... no, I didn't do that because he realised he couldn't overtake me so slipped back behind me to resume his relationship with my exhaust pipe.

The next time I looked in my rear view mirror I had a black Mercedes behind me, so it was either some kind of Transformer or he'd stopped as there was no road to turn into on that stretch. From that point until I got to Mill Lane it was uneventful, which considering it's about 1 mile is good. Then I saw something that deeply troubled me. It troubled me so much I pulled over and called the police. Oddly enough, when I finally spoke to someone in Control, I was the fourth person who had called in the last 5 minutes. Two lads and their two dogs were in a field of horses - next to the aforementioned King's Heath - they were wearing Burberry and their dogs were from Keale or maybe Cannock. Let's put it this way, I don't think the horses were terribly thrilled by the visit and when I returned that way an hour later, there was much activity in the field and it looked like the police had done their job. It should make me happy, but the vile little cunts should never have been using dogs to torture horses, they should have been drowned at birth to prevent the Daily fucking Mail from tarring every poor or disenfranchised person with the same brush because these two little pricks have as much brain as a sea urchin, but less ability to stick to anything.

Obviously, I got to Sainsbury's in such a good mood that I was already playing out confrontational scenarios in my head. But, I'd come here on a Thursday, so there was less chance of the place being over run by pensioners with nothing better to do than treat a few hours at the supermarket like we would have treated a trip to the seaside when we were kids. Ha! I'm having a larf; I must be. Pensioners come out every day, they have nothing better to do than clutter up the world when all they should be doing is sitting at home complaining about the fucking weather!!!

Anyhow, the shopping was pretty uneventful as well. I realised pretty quickly that there were almost as many pensioners as usual so I got my head down and got on with it. Now, as regular readers and friends of mine can attest, one of my bugbears is people who start putting their shopping on the conveyor belt before you've finished putting yours on. Last week's woman was horrendous, and as there were barely any queues anywhere, I figured I would not get a repeat of previous trips. Seriously, I have to stop being optimistic, I only get let down repeatedly... I'm not even a third of the way through my transfer of goods from trolley to belt when a pound of minced beef appeared in front of me followed by a lot of other things I didn't pick up. I turned and there was two old people; so old you might have believed them to be pillars of salt with animatronic features. Using my left forearm, I swept all of her shopping back up the conveyor belt and do you know what she did? She stood there and continued to put stuff on. Before I could say anything, the nice woman on the till said, "Excuse me love, could you stop putting your shopping on please, there is someone in front of you!" But she carried on and the old boy who was with her had started to drift away from her and took up residence about two feet from my right shoulder. I ignored him and  walked up to the old biddy and pointed out what she was doing, nicely.

"Oh," she says, "I thought you'd stopped." Now, in the mood I was in, I kind of felt like screaming at her that she was the THIRD person who THOUGHT I had finished unpacking in the last 3 weeks and yet all she had to do was OPEN HER FUCKING EYES AND SHE WOULD HAVE SEEN A HALF FULL TROLLEY!!! But I didn't, I smiled and heard myself say, "It's easily done."

I'm packing my shopping. The lady on the till is chatting away. The old man is still standing about 8 feet from his wife and about 18 inches from me. I can smell him. It gets to payment time and I think the lady on the till realised that this old fella's close proximity to me was slightly unsettling. No shit! It was as weird as fuck, that's what it was. All I needed was for him to start making noises and I may well have been on the news tonight and on the cover of the Mail tomorrow. I get my card out to pay totally aware he's behind me when the lady says to him, "Excuse me sir, would you like to move away while the gentleman puts in his PIN number?" I think he had something wrong with him because he just stood there slack jawed looking at us both, which prompted me to suggest to the lady on the till that the two of them had that strung out heroin addict look. She was still giggling about that when I was walking out.

Then possibly the most bizarre thing of the morning happened. We have a shopping trolley; you know the kind that old woman have, quite ironically I think you'll agree. This hooks onto the back of a supermarket trolley and we use it instead of using plastic bags; we're greener than youse, see. I'm struggling to put this in the back of the Zafira, while three shopping bags full of goods sit in the supermarket trolley. This woman, about 60, walks from round the corner and just starts to wheel my trolley away. I was slightly incredulous for a split second before the double take came in and I said, "OY! What are you doing?" The woman didn't stop and I ran after her. "Excuse me!" I almost shouted and she turned and looked at me. "My shopping?" I said pointing at the three BRIGHT ORANGE bags in the trolley. Her reaction was worth being born; she looked at my shopping, looked at the trolley and pushed the trolley away from her in the way someone would if you put a turd in their hand or suggested they French kiss their sister. It wasn't so much a push as a recoil; like my trolley was made from radioactive shit. She looked at me, didn't apologise and walked towards Sainsbury's and the trolley park. I stood there looking at her. She obviously thought it was empty and abandoned, at least I hope that's what she thought, otherwise she was on some kind of scam; if it was an accident I just don't understand why she didn't say sorry or something.

On the journey home I saw at least three more examples of the distinct possibility that people bribe Test Examiners, because I don't know how they got driving licenses and it started to snow again.

I am now procrastinating again. I have two projects on the go. 6 job applications to fill in. 4 days of Jobs Today pages to go through and I have zero motivation. I have other things I need to do; the garden is only about an eighth finished to how I want it; I need to go and buy some seed potatoes but... My get up and go has fucked off to somewhere warm and left me with my miserable self.

Yeah, I'm probably a wee bit depressed. We need some prolonged sunshine. Some warmth. Some proper job opportunities.

It's been nearly 8 months since I packed up smoking (Saturday), but the last few days I keep looking at the Cuban cigar that One El brought me back from, um, Cuba and thinking I could do with a massive nicotine splurge; but, you know, I know that will be a little like giving an alcoholic a shot of something 70% proof and then dropping him outside a pub with a pocket full of beer vouchers...

... And breathe.