A Waitrose Strop.

Had a real strop yesterday as I wandered the isles in Waitrose. I love going to Waitrose, even more so during covid – it’s an EVENT in these relentless lockdown days.

I go there when I need a little holiday from Lidl or Aldi. I drag out the experience- admiring the many shades of tomato, browsing the posh condiments and picking up the ‘weekend’ paper on my way out fantasising about the great chef I will never become.

Waitrose is bouji me, suddenly I’m sipping a glass of white, toasting a c list celeb on Saturday kitchen and wondering why my tiger bread tastes of, erm, nothing.

I got to a point last time I went sober where the thought of the taste of any wine just didn’t appeal. I’m not there yet. I wish I’d made more detailed notes! when will I not feel like it anymore? When will I get the smug greatness back? Maybe I’ve been humbled and the smug won’t return this time? Who knows.

I’m running more and that’s helping with my strong emotions, particularly feelings of overwhelm. I couldn’t set of on a jog round the Waitrose wine aisle as I stropped, but I did when I got in. A long run on a Saturday afternoon and like magic the feelings are gone. Reading and bath tubs help too as before.

I don’t wait to avoid Waitrose, I want to enjoy it despite the plethora of wine on offer. I don’t want to avoid life! I want to love it despite my abstinence. I’ve always been impatient – the peace will come again I’m sure.


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