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Monday, November 28

Post 1024 - that's 210
I still have a general disdain for someone cutting my food up for me. I've just become an uncle and my niece has been duly visited and her head was wetted. She is only a few days old. She's got more hair than I have and she seems even to have a more even temper than me. She has, however, no teeth. She doesn't just need her food cutting up for her, she needs it providing in purely liquid form. This is done via the magic of my sister, motherhood and some things I'd rather not consider at this stage. The point is that preparing food for my niece is a necessity (niecessity?) and that's fair enough.

I realise that the above paragraph suggested some sort of uncle/niece competitiveness going on. I assure you, that I have no intention of attempting to win "the battle of the hair" or any other battle for that matter with the latest addition to the family. I'm sure I'd lose. More importantly, contests are arbitrary.

We're going off topic. I have already written about the how the sandwich shop in this building (a shop I'm not likely to use more than 15 more times in my life - weird) can sometimes arbitrarily start cutting things up for you. I am perfectly capable of eating a sausage that has not been cut into sub-bite-sized pieces. So, this morning, I rather bluntly asked for breakfast and instructed them not to cut anything up and to just shove it in a roll. I made out that I was keeping it simple for everyone (rather than accusing them of cosseting me by cutting up my food). So, the roll was prepared, exactly as a wanted it, even with the brown sauce already inserted... and then she cut it in half before it went into the bag. Why!!!?

I was too gobsmacked to say anything. That's probably for the best. After all, what could I say that wasn't, essentially, petty and offensive.

I was probably in a more sensitive mood, since I did my, now semi-regular, Monday morning trek from Southampton this morning. I awoke at around 2.45 and then, after a bit of effort to actually get out of the bed and get dressed, found myself behind the wheel of a car at 3.30. It was a 5 hour drive, which is not bad. I probably used some high speeds in the early stages to gain back the time I'd lose in the morning rush hour towards the end. The snow started at 7.45. Still, I had a collection of MP3s and a heated car.

Tonight there's a gig in Scarborough and then I shall get some sleep. Probably not a huge amount. I really must pack my entire house into boxes, ready for my relocation to the south. I just don't know when I'll have the time.


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