It seems my depression has cleared. I woke today feeling fine. It was a strange feeling. I tried to ring the postal depot as a couple of days ago I received a card saying they're holding a parcel for me, I should ring to rearrange redelivery etc. I've been trying for three days now. They refuse to answer the phone, or switch it on to the answering machine. I am
not impressed. I also decided it was about time I started playing with
Soulseek again. The mourning period for all the information I lost in The Great Computer Crash of January felt like it was over and so I'm back to trying to get hold of mp3s by unheard-of indie bands.
My dad rang at lunchtime to ask if I wanted to go to
Ikea and the supermarket. Always one for a trip to Ikea, I said yes, and we set off about one o'clock. Ikea are having a bit of building work done but there was still a large collection of the pretty, the shiny, the bizarre, the fluffy and the downright ugly on display, and that was just the clientele. I came away with two packs of black and white landscape photo cards which where probably taken by Ansel Adams, two packs of picture frames for said cards, and
a pack of 9 mirror tiles. Way back in time, when the earth was young and I still went to Rios, Tamsin found a stack of mirror tiles in the house her family had just moved into. Being artistically inclined, she decided to do exciting things with them. The one I felt was most effective was where she rubbed away the back of the tile using sandpaper until there was just a glass layer in the centre and mirror surrounding it. She then used them to frame some photographs and magazine clippings, and they looked ace. I wonder if it would be too much like copying for me to do something similar?
We left at about quarter past three. Trying to navigate your way around the selection of roundabouts they have nearby isn't the easiest of things. We were in the middle lane, about to turn left to leave the roundabout, when a 4 wheel drive comes up behind us on the left. Dad slowed down to let it pass but it managed to hit his left bumper, just past where I was sitting.
Click for a photo. Obviously dad was none to pleased. He carried on the roundabout, and both cars pulled up in the inner lane on a section of the roundabout between exits, dad with his emergency stop lights on. He stormed off to go get the details from the driver, which seemed to take ages. While they were still doing this, a large vehicle rescue truck from the Highway Agency pulled over, and a bloke got out to shout at them, telling them if they stayed there they'd end up killed, and that they should go down another road where it was more safer to stop. Dad let the other car set off first, but the driver didn't go down the suggested road and instead took the one which led onto the motorway. They pulled over in the hard shoulder as soon as they could, but dad wound the window down, said they couldn't stop there, and so we all set off again. When we left the motorway, there was some built up traffic at a set of traffic lights, and the other car changed lanes to try and pass them quicker. Dad also signaled to change lanes, but no one would let him in. And so we lost the other car. Dad had managed to get the driver's name and address, and the car registration. He was complaining about his car, as it's an expensive one and I know he thinks highly of it (for some reason. I find it bewildering that someone can be so attached to car.) I told him to be grateful the crash hadn't been more serious. Later he said he didn't think this was going to be a good year for him, as we were only five weeks into the year and already he'd been ill three times and damaged his car. I pointed out that is he thought like that then he would only notice all the bad things which happened and would disregard the good. I said that the fact he offered to take the family on a cruise where the tickets were £1,500 each and that he could afford this must surely be counted as a good thing. He didn't say anything in response.
The supermarket was full of the usual array of imbeciles, pensioners and screaming brats. I long for a supermarket where the only people who are permitted to enter are those who understand that blocking aisles can be annoying, that standing blocking an aisle crossroads while deciding which way to go can be infuriating and that shuffling along at snail's pace whilst a queue of angry shoppers builds behind them will never result in them being made the people's choice for Shopper of the Year. Whilst I was in the supermarket I picked up a copy of
the Times for Stuart, as he's becoming something of a celebrity. His
web guide to Carluke has today been featured in his local paper, the Metro (free paper given away on public transport),
the Scotsman and the Times. He's also going to be giving an interview on
BBC Radio Scotland.
The Times' article manages to encapsulate the site perfectly.
18:01
