I live in the wrong time zone (and my shopping experiences).

Seriously. My sleep pattern has been ridiculous lately. And to worsen matters, I haven’t even been posting on here.

As I type this, it is nearly 7am, and I still haven’t gone to sleep. At about 5am I sort of hit a crossroads, and as good old Bobby Frost would say (well, if he wasn’t suffering from a mild case of death), I took the one less travelled by. It was either go to bed then, or stay up all night. I chose the latter, but there is a method to this madness, I assure you.

I hope to stay up all night tonight, drag myself through tomorrow (it’s only a Sunday anyway sure, all anyone ever does on a Sunday is have dinner) and then go to bed/collapse into an exhausted heap at a reasonable hour, thus getting me back into a healthy, normal sleep pattern.

Yes, I know what you’re all thinking. Behind your shocked faces lie thoughts of my madness and amazement at my utterly revolutionary handling of life’s problems. Well yes, perhaps I am something of a maverick. Perhaps I am someone to be revered and and rewarded.

I’ve always been quite a nocturnal creature. The night is much calmer than its brighter brother, and there’s less people around, which is always nice, because people are bastard-coated bastards with bastard filling. I always prefer doing things at night if it’s possible. With a 24-hour Tesco just minutes away from me, I’m sorted. You see, going out to the shops during the day has three possible outcomes for me. In order of likelihood :

1. I go out, a hungover mess, unshaven, voice weary, legs wearier, shoes still wet with rainwater from the gruelling walk home the previous night, and my only comfort being the ipod and music being pumped into my ears. Then it happens. You step out the door and there’s yer wan/man from down the road.

“Ah how’re ya? [response] Yeah not too bad. [response] How was the weekend/summer/exams/Christmas/orgy/other night? [response] Ah good stuff. Anyway, I’ll let ya go/I’ve gotta run, talk to ya again. [response]

Now, I’m all for a bit of conversation, but I hate that bit where you say you’re going. It feels a bit awkward and rude or something.

So then, I stick in the earphones and get on my merry little way. Then you see someone across the road. Shit, do they see me? I don’t wanna wave and look like a dope if they don’t wave back because they haven’t seen me. Don’t wanna be impolite either though. Then they look up and make the eye contact. Grand. Balls, at what point do I actually wave? Just as he/she’s directly across from me? Nah, a little before then. But what if I wave too soon? Why aren’t there fucking rules for this crap? Screw it, I’ll just do my salute-style wave thing.

And afterwards I feel like a tool for overthinking things. Until I see someone I know walking towards me, this time on the same path as me. Christ. Do I take out my earphones? For fuck’s sake, this is the best part of the song. Better take out the earphones anyway, don’t want the chap thinking I’m being rude or anything.

Then they give you a nod and smile and keep walking. You little bastard. Leave me here looking like a knob with my earphones out, for a nod? This is a travesty, a bloody disgrace. I missed my favourite part of that song so I could perk my ears up and listen to you nodding at me?

Maybe I insulted him while in a drunken stupor. Was he there last night actually? Shit, and me still wearing the same jeans. Feck it.

Who can I expect to meet on my way back? Considering I’m probably looking a bit worse for wear, it’s bound to be the “every female Mark Walsh has ever had feelings of a sexual nature towards” club.“How’re ya girls? No I haven’t been drinking, I just reek of beer from last night. No, I haven’t been living rough, I’m just a bit tired. Yes, I will stop staring.”

I shan’t go into the experience in the shop itself, that might be material for an entirely separate rant. And let’s not forget the possibility of meeting a young couple on the way.

2. The second type of shopping experience is when I go out, a clean shaven, freshly clothed, respectable young gent, in a sociable mood with plenty of time for small talk. And who do I bump into on my travels? Nobody. Not a soul. Jesus, where is everyone? Not even a bit of interaction at the tills, because of those new self service thingies. Shouldn’t have bothered putting that feckin’ shite in my hair and putting on the cleaner-but-less-comfortable shoes.

3. The final shopping experience is when I go out in a similar state to number 2, but this time I bump into many friends and acquaintances, enjoy some friendly banter and a chat with all. Get beeped at by some friends in cars passing by, and generally feel like the man. “Christ, I really know a lot of people”. Those ones rock.

Here’s a graph/chart to represent the above information.

See that? Visual aids ‘n all.

Apologies this substandard post comes nearly a week after my last one, but in fairness, that last one went down pretty well, so I didn’t mind leaving it there for a bit longer before the inevitable let down that was to follow.

I also want some opinions. This blog originally started as my “make money online” diary, but I don’t think many people enjoy reading about that very much, do you? I was thinking of setting a certain day of the week and posting about my online money making efforts on that day and that day only. But would that work? And what day should I pick? Or how about two days? I would appreciate some opinions/feedback.

What a rambling post.

If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!