Monday the 26th of Feb, 2018

Alex Uninvolved
2 min readFeb 26, 2018

I had Mondayitis big time this morning. An all-pervading sense of ‘nope’ that appeared to be coming from my alarm clock. If I’d had a gun in the side drawer I would have reached for that instead of the snooze button, such was the permanence of rest I desired.

But instead I called in sick, which in hindsight is a better long-term strategy. And as I’m paid daily it really puts a dollar figure on not wanting to get up. I’d think twice about paying $2.99 for an app, but forgo many hundreds of dollars to stay in bed a little longer? Sure, why not.

Yesterday I was riding my bike, along the footpath because that’s not allowed, and came up behind a kid, maybe 12, walking a dog, maybe I guess also about 12 — a little black thing that for some reason reminded me of when I would visit my Uncle’s farm as a child.

The dog was white.

I don’t know which one of them was wearing Hugo Boss cologne, but it certainly wasn’t neither of them, so I hated them quite a lot, but then the boy shortened the leash on the dog and stood to one side to let me pass.

Good boy.

I think the following needs a diagram. At the exit to my local supermarket, there is a fish shop and a sandwich shop on either side. I was walking out of the supermarket when a man in the sandwich shop said loudly, something along the lines of “Hey baby, how you doin’” or “babe you lookin’ fiiiine” or a comment of that calibre.

Dotted line is eye contact, if that wasn’t obvious

There was a girl, maybe 17, in the fish and chip shop, cleaning out the fish cooking apparatus, who turned around for the sole purpose of making eye contact with me. I had been looking in her direction — wondering how they have the nerve to charge $12 for fish and chips — and made the mistake of meeting her gaze.

She was no doubt waiting for me to continue my courtship, and must have been befuddled when I instead looked down to adjust the handles of the grocery bags I was carrying which had transformed from flat, comfortable strips of plastic that formed perfectly to the flesh of my fingers into razor-sharp fishing line-type lengths of material that were working their way through my skin to the bone beneath.

So now I have to deal with this weird love triangle every time I buy some carrots or ice cream.

BTW great name for a fish shop: Sole Purpose.

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