The curious difficulty of a bacon sandwich

Up to a glass of water and off for my yearly fasting bloods. Veins much easier to find than when I had my last blood test, which I put down to the gym.  Stopped at Soup-erb arrested by a sign for a breakfast bacon sandwich and cup of coffee for £3. A good deal, but the chef simply didn't turn up. So left paying £4 for the coffee I drank while waiting 40 minutes for a bacon sarnie. Reading Rhona's book about food security, however, which was enjoyable.

Off then to the Twitten where I let myself in to the house, and had a look at a mysteriously dampish bit by the window, yet another problem with the house sale. Then I went around to my old neighbours in the street behind and they let me peer from their garden at what turned out to have been excellent repair work on my roof and gutter. Charming couple. I told them L and I were getting married and fed them the line that it was the triumph of optimism over experience, and they said not to worry as they got married in their seventies.

From there to the Pen to Paper shop, buying some more ink for my cartridge pen which Lorraine got me. I love using it. Then, as Sonya was cleaning at home, I went to the Emporium a new cafe and theatre on London road, and had a table to myself to finally do some writing.  Had two pots of tea and asked for a bacon sandwich from their menu. An hour of bacon seeking followed, with them sending to the shops for some in the end. But as I worked, I couldn't help mulling over the curious difficulty of obtaining a bacon sandwich, which began to represent every petty  frustration in my life. The Emporium is a wonderful place to work, and well priced with good food and wifi, and friendly staff. I shall be going there a lot more.

Home again, and feeling tired and having to stave off feelings of despondency. Very pleased to see my Lorraine tonight.