Miniature Hero

Well that nagging feeling I had on Tuesday where I was sure I had forgotten something turned out to be right. I had forgotten Valentines day and a quick stop at the off license and the 24 hour garage on the way home from work didn’t save the day. I presented my dearly beloved valentine with a bottle of Cava and a large box of miniature Heroes (her favorite, or at least she said they were at Christmas). She tutted and mumbled something along the lines of “hopeless”. I get the feeling she was expecting something a bit different. I feel a lot different in myself after giving up smoking. I’m generally more positive and getting slightly less stressed about it all however this hasn’t had the effect of turning me into a blissful romantic who expresses fake wonder at daffodils and kittens and stuff. I still think Poldark is crap.

I think she was expecting lingerie or something but I find women’s shops intimidating. I was genuinely relieved when the local discount shop brought out a one pound bra. I feel quite at ease in a shop which has everything for a pound including budget bras. I was hoping this would pass as sexy stylish underwear and would be deemed a suitable romantic gift but the wife has told me it’s not acceptable. Apparently it’s not fancy enough. And furthermore she says she is against the shop on principle because nothing can be produced that cheap without the use of underage child labour in conditions that make Oliver Twist look like Center Parcs. She’s forgetting that everything is a pound including miniature Heroes!

 

20 Days

I can’t believe how quickly the time is flying by. I am now on my 20th day of not smoking and also not drinking. It’s Friday already and yet again I am dreading the weekend. Fridays at work used to be quite relaxing, almost therapeutic. I usually spend Friday afternoon avoiding any work that might risk me having to stay any later than four o’clock even though I finish at five. I was going to suggest to my line manager that we accept the utter futility of Friday afternoons and replace the usual routine of doing nothing with something more constructive like art classes or P.E. It’s not that off the wall when you think about it I mean the Japanese do all that Tai Chi or whatever, we could have pottery classes or watercolour lessons, something quintessentially British. I’m sure it will increase productivity.

Anyway I’m getting off the point here. I find my mind wandering a lot lately usually meandering off toward a negative analysis of my life. Any extra time on my hands just seems to be spent anxiously worrying. I still haven’t come up with a weekend pursuit or hobby to look forward to like everyone else seems to have. I may have to make one up. I’m pretty sure everyone lies about how fantastic their weekends are anyway. I overheard Mike in accounts explaining that last weekend he had some friends over to enjoy a dish of char-grilled langoustines and a nice glass of Provencal rose. Utter bull****! I know he spends his Friday nights getting pre-loaded on a bottle of own-brand vodka before going down the Duke of Cumberland to get wasted with his borderline alcoholic mates. I know this because I happen to be one of them!