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Tuesday, October 10

The Devil's In The Details

Yesterday was indeed a day full of details. Work had its moments and I made something. I wasn't especially impressed with the thing I made, but it proved a point. I don't know what point exactly, but that, in itself, is not the point. I did something. Hurrah.

However, the day also sat in the glow of the offer I made on a house at its start. Would the offer be accepted? Would I be heading into almost certain financial death? Would the vendor reject the offer? I didn't know. When the day grew older, I chased up the estate agent and was told that my offer had been declined. That's better than rejected, isn't it? That word should be used more often. I've had it happen with credit cards that were at their limit - "Oh sorry, sir, your credit card has been declined" - it's so much more polite than rejected, isn't it. Maybe that should be what single men do when their girlfriends run off with another fellow. "How do you feel?" "Well, she declined a future with me, but that's fine, I'll just try my debit card."

Anyway, the declination of my offer was not personal, it was just that the house was only just on the market, so the vendor wasn't going to even think about selling it until a few people have been round. Let them go. I'll make another offer a bit later on... maybe for less!

I received this news before I started my evening's shopping. I bought ingredients to make pizza. It came to £6.84, which so impressed the man behind me in the queue, since I had a good bag-full of shopping for my money, that when he paid over £36 for two printer cartridges he then gave me his vouchers-for-schools bounty to compensate for the fact that I'd not even earned one with my purchase. Nice chap.

Back at home, I made the pizzas and they were ok. The base wasn't up to my usual standard, but I had to sort of guess at the recipe a bit. The topping was good and we enjoyed them. Then, as a feather in the cap of an eventful day, I took my girlfriend to see a movie I knew she wanted to see The Devil Wears Prada. This film was ok. Anne Hathaway was especially big-eyed throughout. Meryl Streep was fine. It was... well, fine. I doubt it would win any awards for anything. It did seem to reveal the futile vanity of the fashion industry, vaguely attempt to justify it, give up, attempt to stab it in the back, and then walk away after a sort of a slash. I feel very ambivalent about this ambivalent film. I was less equanimous about the constant chatter around me in the cinema. There were only about 15 of us in there, but I didn't pay overinflated cinema prices to hear people explaining a fairly lightweight film to each other. Blah blah blah blah - that's all I heard in any of the longer sequences. Blah blah bloody blah.

So, at the day's end, I was well fed, vaguely entertained, slightly irritated, and not especially poorer than when it started.


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