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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. 

 

     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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