THE SAINSBURY’S GNOME

This isn’t a hint for anybody to do anything, but I actually don’t think I’m capable of looking after myself.

That was my thought in the middle of the supermarket. I froze, like a little Sainsbury’s gnome in the dairy aisle. Hood up, eyes closed, rucksack on both shoulders, counting on my fingers:

“Chopped tomatoes, mushrooms, garlic, cheese... butter... that’s about it.”

I recounted, listing the contents of my fridge from memory.

That is not a feast; I don’t even like mushrooms! So there I stood, meditating on any quick simple thing I could have with at least some of that, to make a half decent Friday-night dinner at the end of an exhausting week.

A very pretty lady looked at me and quickly did a 180-swerve away from me with her trolley. Avoid the Sainsbury’s Gnome, people, for he muttereth to himself by the Lurpaks.

My friend Sarah helped me make a food diary and a shopping plan a while ago. I was, and am still very grateful. And yet... I don’t seem to have the discipline to make it work. Am I incapable, or scatter-brained, or just lazy? And which of those is worst?

Meanwhile, my Mum believes that the reason I got sick this week was that I didn’t eat anything on Tuesday other than a bowl of porridge and some Fry’s Chocolate Creams. When she (made me) put it like that, it was tough to argue.

What happens is that I keep changing my plans, because, at the end of the day (in every sense) I actually don’t think I like being on my own. And if I were better at that, I could build change into the plan, so that I don’t end up with a fridge of decaying vegetables.

Well, anyway, I cobbled some Italianish gloop together and ate it, listening to the latest Just a Minute on the radio. Then I played the piano for a bit, warmed up the heaters, and felt a lot better.

I can do this, right? I mean, I can overcome this! I can plan and tidy, and cook and eat, and sleep and work, like a normal person, can’t I?

I believe so. I have to.

Maybe this was a hint for somebody to do something, after all! Me.