Monday

Head to work via the newsagent as usual for a bottle of Diet Coke. I'm not sure how I feel about the bloke who works in there in the mornings. He will always, always, say "Hello sir, how are you today?" and if I respond he'll say something banal about the weather. This is fine, of course - I'd much rather have a friendly guy to buy a drink from in the morning than some grumpy person or (my pet hate) someone talking on the phone and barely acknowledging you at the till.

The main problem in this situation is that I go in there wearing my headphones - meaning that to have this Groundhog Day-style identical mini-chat every morning I have to take my headphones off; which is a bit of a faff. What's wrong with going in, picking up exactly what I buy every morning, smiling, paying and leaving? He mentioned it once - saying something like "You always have your headphones on, you never respond when I say hello". Now that I feel like I'm being rude every time I go in there, I have to make extra sure to smile and appear chatty. It's a nightmare.

I would find a new newsagent but this one is perfectly positioned on the way to work and to go anywhere else would mean going out of my way - and I'm simply not prepared to do that. We've only been at this house for 2 months and I miss my old morning newsagent. The man in there used to completely ignore me and pretend I had never been in there before - even after a year of going in there every weekday. Perfect.

Anyway, I get to work and have a more or less relaxed day. The Big Work we have on at the moment is turning out not to be so big after all, meaning it is easy to approach without panicking too much.

In the evening I walk down the Passage to Sainsbury's to meet K and do the weekly shop. Usually we do this on a Saturday or Sunday morning - and there is certainly a different clientele at 8pm on a Monday. A couple of confused looking stoners ahead of us in the queue spend around 15 minutes paying an £8.65 bill in 10ps. In the end they have to leave their multi-pack of Crunch Corner yoghurts behind. Shame, I bet they were gagging for those.

We get home in good time and eat some lovely posh burgers - the kind we got used to picking up to take to barbecues last summer. Biting into them instantly made me long for the summer: hanging out in beer gardens in shorts, getting pissed all day at the weekend, barbecues, walks in the park and, this summer at least, the World Cup. Can't wait.

Wrote my Beckham piece and posted it to Who Are Ya?! before bedtime. Was glad to get it done as it's been 2 weeks since I updated the blog and I think it came out quite well. Writing it made me realise how important a footballer he is to me and fans of my age, and how we're unlikely to see anyone quite like him again. When, in many years' time, we are asked to name the footballer of the early years of the 21st century, it will be him every time. Though I've written enough about him now - the piece is here.