I was standing in front of the 'reduced items' fridge in the supermarket of the grim estate down the road earlier today, holding a knock-down plastic pack of pink and perfectly oblong 'sliced pork product' & thinking the sort of thoughts I always think when I'm on the verge of buying this sort of thing, i.e., gloom, gloom, gloom and more damn gloom.
In the end, I didn't. I bought fruit - like you do - and cycled home instead, still feeling low.
I'm off to London for the day tomorrow and buying anything to eat on the go there requires a small mortgage - so taking sandwiches is pretty much a necessity. But what could I put in my butties? Nada. Zip. There was nothing in the fridge (since I don't actually have a fridge) and the cupboard was bare.
So, go out and try to get a rabbit? Oh God, I'm not sure I can be arsed.
So I blobbed & played 'Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas' while the sun started to go down outside.
No. Bugger this - go out. Try and get some grub for tomorrow.
I needed to change my jeans though, they were clean on this morning. Could I be bothered? No, no I couldn't - I'll just make sure I don't get them dirty...
So, obviously, when I drop to take a shot, I drop straight into a nice fresh pile of cow shit and then, before I've figured out what I'm lying in - before the smell and the damp start to make themselves felt - I roll around on the ground to get into a better shooting position.
Still, got something for my sandwiches.
Time for a shower.