Business

My daughter is officially unemployed as of today. She was given a week's notice from her temporary contract last week. She took it well at the time but I still half expected to return from work this afternoon to find her moping about the kitchen dipping into the biscuit barrel and drinking endless cups of tea. Basically what I would be doing under the same circumstances. But no I came back to find my daughter and her boyfriend brainstorming ideas for a business start up meeting tomorrow. They were thinking about what Louise can do and scratching any ideas she can't. Pets Holiday Home was crossed off the list when I mentioned my cat allergies and Secret Shopper was too when Louise revealed she secretly detested shopping - news to me, I always thought she loved accompanying me around the discount supermarkets about town. I left the room and returned later to hear their finalised idea, which I think will cause quite a stir at the workshop tomorrow - Bikini Window Cleaning!

Griping

Despite gripey stomach pains I soldiered into work, upon orders of my Team Leader. I could be struck down with the Bubonic Plague and she'd still insist I 'come in and see how you get on.' So there I was gurgling away on reception when she relented and sent me home. When I got outside it was bucketing it down and I opted for the bus. A mistake. As soon as I took refuge under the bus shelter I was pinned to the spot by a woman with verbal diarrhea. She was spouting off about the state of the pavements, the parks, the bus service, the weather, immigration and housing, when suddenly a loud, cheek slapping eruption stopped her diatribe dead in it's tracks. Who would have thought a poorly stomach could be of so much benefit?

Nom, nom, nom

What's your favourite supper-time snack? My daughter loves a bowl of custard, usually zapped so fiercely most of it ends up decorating the inside of the microwave. If money's a bit tight I might have a dry cracker or two before bedtime or if I'm feeling frivolous I do like to indulge in an overpriced granola cereal with Greek yoghurt topped with chopped apricots. During leaner times, i.e. twenty five days of the month, I might go for a cut-price cereal that tastes and looks like cardboard, with cheap sugar laden own brand yoghurt. In fact my money saving tip for today is food related. Sneak a plastic lidded box of sugar coated cereal into the cinema, it's a great substitute for popcorn and when you're in the dark you won't know the difference.

Fishy business

My daughter kindly offered to take me out for lunch today. It has been a miserable week, what with being dumped and public humiliation in the supermarket so she suggested a light snack followed by a special treat. She knows I have been struggling with thickened skin on the soles of my feet, especially since the warm weather arrived and I have been sporting my trusty tractor tread sandals on a more regular basis. So she took me to one of those fishy foot spa places, where the little fish nibble all the dead skin off your feet. I hadn't a clue what to expect, so when I dipped my callused feet into the water imagine my suprise when a large shoal lurched forward and begin nibbling away. Not being au fait with the sensation of foot munching fish I let out a blood curdling yelp, scaring the woman sat across from me. Thankfully I soon relaxed and found the whole experience rather soothing. The fish made light work of my feet and afterwards they felt less sandpaper-like. In fact I examined my feet this evening and found the words 'Fancy a Drink?' nibbled into my heels. Perhaps the fish thought I was tasty?!

Bagging Area

Nothing riles me more than spending more time than I need to in an overcrowded supermarket. Take Thursday afternoon for instance. What should have been a leisurely stroll about the special offers aisle turned into a scrum for discounted disposable barbeques and ten packs of party poppers. Yes I am aware there was a bank holiday looming but anyone would think the end of the world was nigh judging by the overloaded trolleys and grim faces of my fellow shoppers. Seizing the opportunity to leave I joined a lengthy queue and waited. And waited. And waited for the people in front to load their last supper of bumper packs of crisps, bread rolls and cheap ale onto the checkout. They then proceeded to confuse the poor lass on the till with a variety of requests for change in different denominations, it culminated in a till roll malfunction and a stern word from the supervisor. Absolutely tee-ed off I made my way over to the self service section where a machine ordered me in a shrill, sharp voice to 'PLACE MY ITEM IN THE BAGGING AREA' after I put a sack of spuds in my Bag for Life. The robot of hard knocks continued to tell me off throughout the proceedings, especially when I placed my Bag for Life in the bagging area - where surely it belongs - and it practically screamed 'UNEXPECTED ITEM IN THE BAGGING AREA'. Feeling a surge of rage I decided to take matters in my own hands and held a sit down protest in the bagging area as the machine chanted it's mantra 'UNEXPECTED ITEM IN THE BAGGING AREA' until security were called and I was quietly taken to a newly opened till staffed by a real human being.