Black ground beetle

Yes, this week my life has been unbalanced.

So unbalanced that I have just woken from a nap featuring, yes you won’t believe this, the common black ground beetle (Pterostichus melanarius) of my childhood. We used to find these everywhere. As gross as boys tend to be we used to play with them, well armed with the unspoken knowledge that if we played with them the girls wouldn’t bother us.

So unbalanced has been my day, that I have just burnt my last drop of coffee writing about the sodding Pterostichus melanarius, like sucks sometimes.

The dream was about entomology, and in the dream I was insisting that beelteology was more appropriate. Those of you who are regular to this blog will understand I have a passion for English and the associated etymology. Sometimes dreams are just plain weird.

Receiving my filthy lucre

I didn’t post yesterday; yesterday was one of those days that just disappears. It was payday, yes the day when I have to bus to Barra de Tijuca and get my filthy lucre.

It started off well; I left home at 11.15am and waited for a kombi to take me to the bus stop.

No kombi.

I walked to the nearest bus stop which didn’t have the bus I really wanted. Only the slower bus that goes the longer route.

At the bus stop…

No bus.

I waited.

And waited.

And finally a bus came an hour after I had left home.

I finally arrived at the office at 2pm thoroughly ticked off. Stayed for sufficient time to get paid and left. Paid my bills, as evident that they haven’t cut of my net access, nor electricity. And went for a faster-than-usual leisurely sushi lunch.

One would think that was the end of my woes, but one would be wrong.

I walked to the bus stop. Finally a bus came. It was the horrendously expensive air conditioned express one at $12, I could have chosen the one behind at R$2.75, but it was the slower longer routed one and I wanted to pay my rent before the long Easter weekend. The bus filled, and then they started to pick up more standing passengers. This ticked me off because paying R$12 for comfort in a bus that is only authorised for seated passengers meant that the bus was filled which makes the air conditioning, which I also pay for, less effective. I swallowed my gall.

Serra da Grota Funda - Recreio & Barra on the left, Guaratiba & Baia de Septiba on the right

Up over the Grota Funda hills. You can see the road winding over the pass, doesn’t look much from the air, but takes 20 minutes to negotiate. When we got to the other side the bus veered off down the longer route…. and traffic jams.

As a result, my rent remains unpaid. I got home at 6pm after a brief stop at the supermarket.

My brand

I was not to be toyed with. I was like a woman with PMS; even the cat stayed out of my way, and there was no way I was about to start blogging.

The day before this comedy of errors the price of cigarettes went up. The first step in a government plan to stage the price of cigarettes out of the reach of smokers.

The price rose by 25%, a whopping 85 centavos.

I was not impressed.

So this week I am definitely out of sorts.

I have often wondered why Maundy Thursday was called Maundy Thursday…

It should have been called Maudlin Thursday.

The name Maundy comes from an Old English word from the Old French, hence Latin and the phrase, “Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos” (“A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you”). By which, according to the Gospel of John,  Jesus explained to the Apostles the significance of his action of washing their feet.

It is Easter, after all.

Chocolates here in Brazil have risen in price by 8.9% over last year. Explain to me then, why, when all the ingredients have fallen in price. The answer is a simple producers and shopowners are just a pack of greedy bastards here as anywhere else.

I refuse to buy chocolate before Easter and be held to ransom.

Just the same as I refuse to buy Christmas presents before Christmas.

I know, I’m a tightfisted old bastard.

It’s now 1.20pm, I am thinking, lunch.

Later, maybe…

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