![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravenI've been doing various things today; getting bits 'n' bobs out of the way, as it were. I went into Formby meaning to just go to Pritchard's and buy Jingo, so there I was, walking to the door when Tony trundled past pushing an out-of-control book trolley. He had time to shout "Hi!" before hurtling through the door. I waited a moment before following. Pritchard's is having an overhaul at the moment, and they're all busy, but as enthusiastic as ever. I only had to say "Jingo" - not "Discworld" or even "Terry Pratchett" - before Tony knew exactly what I wanted and where, in the mass of L-space, to find it. Unfortunately, he didn't find it. There always seems to be one they don't have, so he told me to come back tomorrow after ten am, at which time they'll be sure to have it. After that was arranged, I asked him for a job. He (still) says he hasn't forgotten me, and I'm not surprised, as my plan is to badger him until he does give me a job. He says within a week or two, he'll know something... which is all right, I suppose.
I need a job. My parents are lovely people and give me some money every month, which I can quite well survive on, as I don't actually buy that much, but I think I'm too old not to have a job now. I want some money that I've earned, and a general sureness that I won't have to ask for money, or borrow money, or in fact do anything with money except earn it, save it and spend it. But the thing is, because I don't need the money, I'm not going to work somewhere where I don't like. I've got nothing pushing me to get a job, so I'm not working in Homebase or the fishmonger's or anywhere. I want to work in Pritchard's - I'd do it for free - so I'm waiting for a job there. If all that makes sense.
So, after that, I went to the newsagents next door and bought some sweets for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
language_idling. The woman seemed quite startled when I asked how long penny sweets last. She looked so puzzled that I was moved to explain, and she thought it was so sweet that she almost forgot to charge me for the sweets. Apparently they will last as long as it takes to cross the Atlantic, so all's well there. I bought a bit of a mixture - two types of foam banana, some ordinary cola bottles, some fizzy cherry cola bottles, one really really big cola bottle, some of those strawberry thingits I like, a fizzy dummy and two white mice. They're sitting here beside the computer as I write, and I've had to tie knots in the bag so I don't eat them.
The weather was so nice that I carried on walking from there, and went down to the supermarket and finished off by getting some more sweets - two little bags of Haribo Starmix. They have the usual stuff in them - hearts, bears, rings - but I couldn't find one that had fried eggs. They do usually have fried eggs in them, don't they? For some reason, I couldn't find any.
Oh, no, wait - I've had another look, and one of them has one fried egg. I suppose that will have to do.
Those two bags will go into the parcel as well. At least they're sealed and I can't eat them. They're heavier than I thought they would be, actually - nevermind. After buying them, I ambled back down through the village, enjoying the weather - perfect cold clear blue - and then, on a whim, I dropped into Superdrug. I rummaged through the display by the door, and found....
Well, guess what I found?
Disturbingly, it's referred to on the receipt as "33-inch soft weapon." I found a scythe! It's only plastic, will not sever you from this mortal coil, but it's heavier than it looks and infinitely swishable. I carried it home and attracted quite a few strange looks, but they all want one really. I am (temporarily) Death, destroyer of worlds, but our next day for meeting up is Monday upon which I will give our very own Death her very own symbol of office.
Incidentally, I also found a small scary plastic rat. But I didn't buy it, because if it took us so long to find a human-sized scythe, imagine how long it will take to find one for the Death of Rats. We'll just have to do without the Grim Squeaker. And the Raven.
SQUEAK. SQUEAK.
Quite so.
I need a job. My parents are lovely people and give me some money every month, which I can quite well survive on, as I don't actually buy that much, but I think I'm too old not to have a job now. I want some money that I've earned, and a general sureness that I won't have to ask for money, or borrow money, or in fact do anything with money except earn it, save it and spend it. But the thing is, because I don't need the money, I'm not going to work somewhere where I don't like. I've got nothing pushing me to get a job, so I'm not working in Homebase or the fishmonger's or anywhere. I want to work in Pritchard's - I'd do it for free - so I'm waiting for a job there. If all that makes sense.
So, after that, I went to the newsagents next door and bought some sweets for
language_idling. The woman seemed quite startled when I asked how long penny sweets last. She looked so puzzled that I was moved to explain, and she thought it was so sweet that she almost forgot to charge me for the sweets. Apparently they will last as long as it takes to cross the Atlantic, so all's well there. I bought a bit of a mixture - two types of foam banana, some ordinary cola bottles, some fizzy cherry cola bottles, one really really big cola bottle, some of those strawberry thingits I like, a fizzy dummy and two white mice. They're sitting here beside the computer as I write, and I've had to tie knots in the bag so I don't eat them.The weather was so nice that I carried on walking from there, and went down to the supermarket and finished off by getting some more sweets - two little bags of Haribo Starmix. They have the usual stuff in them - hearts, bears, rings - but I couldn't find one that had fried eggs. They do usually have fried eggs in them, don't they? For some reason, I couldn't find any.
Oh, no, wait - I've had another look, and one of them has one fried egg. I suppose that will have to do.
Those two bags will go into the parcel as well. At least they're sealed and I can't eat them. They're heavier than I thought they would be, actually - nevermind. After buying them, I ambled back down through the village, enjoying the weather - perfect cold clear blue - and then, on a whim, I dropped into Superdrug. I rummaged through the display by the door, and found....
Well, guess what I found?
Disturbingly, it's referred to on the receipt as "33-inch soft weapon." I found a scythe! It's only plastic, will not sever you from this mortal coil, but it's heavier than it looks and infinitely swishable. I carried it home and attracted quite a few strange looks, but they all want one really. I am (temporarily) Death, destroyer of worlds, but our next day for meeting up is Monday upon which I will give our very own Death her very own symbol of office.
Incidentally, I also found a small scary plastic rat. But I didn't buy it, because if it took us so long to find a human-sized scythe, imagine how long it will take to find one for the Death of Rats. We'll just have to do without the Grim Squeaker. And the Raven.
SQUEAK. SQUEAK.
Quite so.
