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January 2nd 2010
I am going to have to go into town today. An
uncomfortable prospect. But the Grey Cat is almost out of
his 'super supper' and tomorrow looks to be accompanied by temperatures
even colder than today.
There are those
who discover emotional sustenance in the routine of leaving home.
They take with them a smile and a list to the grocery store. Nod
politely to distant acquaintances. Renew old friendships.
Share decorating tips. Merge into the tapestry with
unabashed enthusiasm, before coming home refreshed.
Others will
apparently find no merit in the grocery store whatsoever. They
will buffalo along the aisles in bad temper, piling produce, canned
goods and meat products into their shopping cart. Their expression
is a sort of glazed fury, and more often than not there is that final
gesture of exasperation at the checkout counter when 'the one who puts
groceries into Thank You bags' becomes confused by glitter or by pretty
girls.
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For me the process of going to the
grocery store begins some days before. It consists primarily of
unfounded convictions that tomorrow will always make more sense. It
includes diatribe, pacing about and a stunning capacity to search for
alternatives.
I have for example already considered
thawing out some chicken parts with which to sustain the Grey Cat.
I have argued that these chicken parts would be healthier fare for him than
his oddly fragrant 'super supper'. And last night, he seemed to
enjoy a morsel of boiled potato that he managed to snag from my bowl while I
was trying to find the device that switches television channels.
Anyway, I think I have taken all the
labels off my new pair of trousers and I have had a shave and it is always a
relief to find my wallet.
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