I fear that I turned into Michael Douglas in Falling Down tonight while stuck in traffic. But my psycho state of mind eased somewhat when I went past the two car crash that had caused the snarl up. Someone had been cut out of a car that had gone headlong into a stone wall. At least I got home, even if it was several hours too late.
We have a very strange 24 hour Tescos at the end of the street. Strange in that, despite having Open 24 hours! plastered all over it, it is never open 24 hours ever. Unless that’s the weekly opening hours. If you look a little closer at the sign it also says Open 24 hours! (not Saturday and Sunday). Not Monday-Friday either! In need of cat litter and cheap bread on way home from the theatre we went to Tesco last night only to be refused entry by a crazy, arm-waving security Nazi, who made it clear we would not be welcome inside the store when we had moved a mere three paces from the car. Keen to survive on zero finances, we devoured a lovely baguette tonight that cost us a piddling 25p. But we also wasted £1.17 on a rather tasteless, rubbery ‘mild cheese’ that M is, quite rightly, refusing to eat.
Slightly odd comment from bakery staff member after request for hot-cross bun style bread loaf: “I work on in store bakery and I know we don’t do those. Not on in store bakery. But you might find some with the bread.” Huh? Traded in our winning scratchcard (value £1) for a losing one, thus making us even – this time at least – with the Lottery.