Some Sunday habits are impossible to break. Tucked up in bed this morning with The Observer, Andrew Marr, and a brew, as ever has been the case for years. Okay so when I was younger it was the Independent on Sunday, David Frost, and coffee, but time and age does funny things to a man.
Financial responsibility in this time of moving house and not even writing down rough budgets for the remaining month does have the hint of our Prime Minister’s avoidance of any firm decision on public spending. Unlike Brown, or at least I hope, there will be wakening up call from fate sooner rather than later. Why only this morning I heard a mother tell her son, “You have to be better with your pocket money” when he moaned about not having enough left for an oversized pebble-filled bouncing ball. That’s his version of, say, my council tax bill. It’s the rich thread of life, etc, etc.
One bottle of milk – 97p. One mini packet of sushi – £1. Five packets of CapriSun – £1. All consumed within moments of purchase. That’s responsibility right there. Okay, so this week I have no doubt that there’s budgeting to be done, not least because I have yet to prepare for the upcoming Scottish holiday never mind living on my own. Unless situations built on firmer foundations fashion themselves in the next 72-hours or so, you won’t believe the ideas I’ve drafted for the day before setting off camping….It’s all about dealing with the tough economic climate, you know, it’s sensible.