8pm

I need therapy.

I went to the supermarket today, something that I usually do after pay day. I know it’s a strange habit, but I find the empty fridge at the end of the month boring.

So, first I am greeted by a wine & cheese display.

Roughly what a wine and cheese display should look like – This one didn’t

Now I like wine and I like cheese; but I didn’t like what I saw. A bottle of wine, a nice wine, a Portuguese Vinho Verde, It’s a crackling wine. The price was R$16.90… The normal price was R13.90! Here it was on display as though it were a ‘special’. Any thoughts of perusing for more wine abated, rapidly. Cheese… there were two types of cheese, it was no more a display of cheeses than you’d find in a second hand car sales.

Off around the supermarket.

I got to the meat counter. Well, I would have got to it if it hadn’t been for the queue. I had forgotten that today was Thursday. Thursdays are meat specials days. The queue was 30 deep, there were two attendants. I swerved my shopping cart off to another aisle. There was no way in hell I was going anywhere near the meat counter, truthfully, there was no way I could get near the meat counter.

Well, that was Thursday; which somehow melded into Saturday.

I’m not yet sure how that happened. I’ll have to think about that some more.

Meanwhile, it’s Saturday, the one thing I have learned so far today is that one does not try to step over the cat on a slate floor when one is wearing wet chinelos (Flipflops). Doing the splits at 60 is neither healthy, dignified nor what the Almighty intended. Although his name was called in vain during my obliquely downward trajectory.

It’s 9am, so there’s plenty of time to learn more.

It’s raining. It rained yesterday. The forecast is for more rain tomorrow.

The programme today is blogging.

… along with plenty of coffee.

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