a real zone-of-fury-and-hate

I really must do something about the time dilation effect that interposes between 7:30 and 10:30. That’s three hours. What the hell happens to those three hours? Mmm-uh. I’m aware of the fact that it had practising and showering and other useful stuff in it, but three hours…

Anyway, I get in to Walker and carry on doing what I was doing last week – still not sure how big a job is and how long it’s going to take. Longer than estimated if Photoshop continues with its playful tendency to crash just before I’m about to save (there’s a period of time during which, given the amount of time it takes to save a document, it’s not useful to save. The viable-save-event-horizon is usually about a second after PS decides to crash, which it does without ceremony – one second I’m looking at my job, then next I’m looking at the desktop as if I was just dreaming about working in Photoshop and then I woke up. Or something like that, anyway…)

After work I walk to Boots and Sainsbury’s at Waterloo Station to get mouthwash and Yakult (have launched into serious Yakult jag for some reason). The self-service tills at that Sainsbury are a real zone-of-fury-and-hate. Whenever I use them and emerge from the shop into the street I wonder what the hell happened in there. Very odd, although the combination of apallingly-written software and pushy-to-the-point-of-aggressive staff don’t help. Also, something weird has happened to my debit card, which means I’ll have to interface with my bank tomorrow, which is another source of endless joy.

I suppose I could go to a different supermarket, if there was one open in the vicinity.

Anyway, home, dinner, tea and another episode of The Wire.

Hmm, I’ve indulged my love of hyphens today, haven’t I?