I eventually went home early on Friday as I felt shite. Was cheered up by seeing a Jay up my road again. He was in the middle of the road and I didn't want to disturb him (I walk along the road on my street as barely anyone drives up it and the footpath has been taken over by tree roots so is a little dangerous. In the sense that you can trip over the roots, not that they'd come to life and pull you under the soil or owt). He was hopping around doing this and that and I could see him getting nervous as I came close so I retreated to the path so he could continue about his business without being disturbed. Smashing looking creature. A fox walking across the road further up, he was very smart looking. Thought it might be nice having a couple of hours of daytime tv but by the time I got home it was almost five, so wasn't really worth it. I was asleep come half nine, on my settee. Willed myself to bed for a good rest. Had a crazy dream about giants and robots. I remember one bit about promising an angry robot person that he could be like new again, we'd take apart all his sections and replace or clean them, which he seemed to like the idea of. One bit involved a massive rousing speech and when i woke up my first thought (while I could still remember the speech) was 'who writes this stuff?', it just seems an odd thought to think of the brain thinking it all up on the fly. I felt satisfied at finally having a crazy dream.
Made my way through to the huge sainsbury's for my shop. Was fairly straightforward apart from the lack of checkouts on. once I was done. A woman with with some kind of skin problem all over her face wearing a vile tracksuit with 'burberyy' written across the front in a dross font. A kid sat by the exit poking in the first finger from a bag of iced buns, joined soon by her brother (I assume) with a bag of those big, overly moist cookies. My leek confused the sovereign ring encrusted cashier girl. For ages.
A trip in to bromley beckoned as I needed some cheap shit from the pound shop and I also wanted a decent cushion for my meditation as currently I'm not raised high enough and my leg goes dead which is distracting. Walked round the corner to see a dour looking middle aged man sat in the middle of a cheap marquee advertising a will writing service. Bloody hell, sat in Bromley on a cold saturday opposite Primark in an open marquee trying to convince pasty eating proles to write a will - must be depressing work. The main drag is made a little tougher at this time of year due to the christmas market thing the have on, all those charity bib wearing types and survey takers have points to ambush you from. When it's all clear you can see them a mile off so can make appropriate manoeuvres/get phone out for pretend conversation. Got the phone out just in case. Good job too, a bloke leapt out from near the vile smelling spanish sweet van thing. Treated myself to just the one book while I was in.
Eventually found something for the job in woolworths, a quite horrid furry beanbag footstool thing, but I can leave it behind the settee until I decide to meditate.
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