Mr Kipling
Mr Kipling, was, apparently, a diarist of the highest regard. His adverts always started with something like "Sunday, wrote Mr Kipling, and I invited a swimming pool full of arabian juggling midgets round to sample my apple fancies...". So, today, I shall also write about my Sunday's experiences. Sadly, there were no apple fancies involved, though I sampled both a lemon-curd-style pudding and a couple of fruit allsorts.

When I say sampled, I literally mean that I sampled them, rather than eating enough of them to satisfy my sweet tooth, or fill my stomach.

This morning I slept until this afternoon. I woke up in time to see the end of the London marathon. Last night we'd driven into London and had been along some of the streets that were prepared for the race. The effort of the drive had not been enough to tire me out that much. Indeed, compared with the effort expended by the runners, I feel somewhat ashamed for having slept so much. Well, ashamed is possibly too strong a word for it. I feel... well, not proud.

On the up-side, I got a good rest.

If the world is going to be in balance, then for the large lie-in, there needs to be some sort of activity to balance it. So, I went for a walk this afternoon. I walked into the centre of Reading. I got a Subway salad for lunch. I bought some screwdrivers. I even bought a smoothie, the likes of which I'd not had since the previous day when I drove into town and swapped a birthday present CD for two CDs that I preferred.

Food obsession
The smoothie I had both days was a "Fat burner". The Subway salad was exceedingly healthy and fat-less. Even the evening meal I ate tonight was low in portion-size and carbs. I'm trying to keep my eating under control. It's a nightmare... it's also not that difficult. It does make me think of food a lot more than I would like to, though.

Still, while at Subway I witnessed a bizarreness. One of the other people there was an American woman. She seemed genuinely fazed by the experience of buying Subway food, which is pretty odd, since it's an American company. She chose a 6" honey oat bread - good choice. I was stuck on my low-carb... well no-carb/no-bread option, so my interest was piqued. What did she want in her sandwich? She asked for them to put just some cheese in it. If you've been to Subway, you'll know that their cheese portions are pretty puny and also fairly non-cheesy. It's very thin and fairly tastless. If you've been to Subway, you'll also know that it's something of a production-line system there. They move the sandwich from being given its principal filling to having the salad added.

At the salad adding point, while I was waiting for my sweet onion chicken to finish its stint in the microwave, the salad assistant asked young-miss-stupid-america what salad she wanted. She declined. He got confused. The microwave pinged. He removed the chicken teriyaki. He tried to put it in her sandwich, reasoning, as one might, that perhaps she was having a salad-less sandwich with cheese and a hot filling. She corrected him before I did. He remained unsettled and confused. She asked him to add some BBQ dressing to her sandwich. He wanted to put salad in it. I wanted him to put salad in it. It looked so bare. She really needed to get some salad inside her (she was clearly a bit of a salad dodger). Then she issued the best understatement of the day, perhaps of the week. She said "I don't like too much in a sandwich".

She came from the american city of "Missingthepointsville".

Back to the house
With screwdrivers bought and salad consumed, I walked back to the house, used the screwdrivers to fix the door which needed fixing and then went out for a pub quiz, which turned into a game of pool - well 2.

The evening also featured some watching of Friends and some programming. I'd definitely recommend SharpDevelop for free C# programming at home.