Friday, 6 January 2012

Caught short.. almost...

For the majority of my life I have not had any regular routines. You might describe my lifestyle as "somewhat chaotic" and it does put the fear of god into a lot of people I know, but it suits me. However over the last few years I have developed something of a semi-regular morning routine that has been quite predictable.

I have a coffee and a smoke when I first get up, it is the waking up ritual that seems to get me started quicker than a cold shower. The rest of the morning prep is squeezed into the next 20 minutes before I have to leave for the clients office.

On arrival more coffee is the order of the day (the stereotypical staple of the techies diet) and at about 10am another smoke is duly consumed. This brings us neatly to 10:30 am and the most regular fixture of my lifestyle...

The morning porcelain throne ritual.

Observing this time honoured tradition is a sacred time of private contemplation, one that suffers no interruption or delays (this can be very important - delays can really leave you in the shit) and requires only a few prerequisites;
  1. A vacant trap/stall/cubicle
  2. A reasonable supply of paper (of the derrière kind - paper for reading is optional) 
It just so happens that, despite rumour to the contrary, I work quite hard and get engrossed in whatever project I am working on at the time. This has caused me to be late for my usually prompt appointment with the "Chelsea Contemplation Glade" - or toilet as it is known. On one of these occasions the emergency evacuation alarm was on high-alert before I decided to break for a well earned think and "pinch off a loaf".

A wise and experienced man will always check the availability of paper before presenting his ass to the pan, and as wisdom is only gained through experience, I knew well enough to look in advance...

"Damn. All out of shit-tickets..."

This was not the first time this month that I had discovered the lack of wiping equipment in the office khazi, but is was the first time I had let the alert status reach DefCon 2...!

Sainsburys is 10 mins walk away. Including time to shop that makes a 25 minute delay on "dropping the kids off at the pool". Damn. Dilemma. Do I risk the trip to the shop while on high-alert status, or do the unthinkable (and spend the rest of the day with no socks on...)

Those of you still reading by this point may be wondering if I made it...

Well it was down to the wire - cramps and sweats were upon me - but I made it, and I got to keep my socks! Result!

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