Is it Tuesday?

What a strange 10 days or so…. Dumped by Donna; driving lessons; starting the diet; working over the weekend; Edinburgh in the pipeline.. I’m not sure where I am, or where I’m going.
The return tickets to Edinburgh cost me £121, so the extra shifts Friday and Saturday will be useful. The store was a hell of a lot busier than it is during the week, but the clientele weren’t of any better standard. I think a bus full of guests from The Jeremy Kyle Show must have detoured straight to our supermarket on the way back to Chavsville. The clothes department sold out of women’s large elasticated jogging bottoms, and the cheapo sherry flew off the shelves like a pigeon flies off a pavement. I think I’d meet classier people if I got a job at a whorehouse. Speaking of which, one of my lower-end-of-the-intellect-spectrum colleagues at work has given me the number of a ‘really top-notch’ prostitute in Edinburgh. Apparently she can suck the yolk out of an egg through a hole in the shell, and ‘takes it up the churner for a fifty.’
Chances are I won’t be using the number.

Sophie has to work Monday, but has lined up loads to do over the weekend. We’re going out with a group of her nurse friends on Saturday, so she’s warned me to leave my liver on a stretcher somewhere, and be prepared for a late-night curry and a nightclub. And the diet had been going so well..

RC 7-4-09
2213 BST