Ikea day today. We love Ikea. In the restaurant you can get a dinner that includes meatballs, chips, a strange gravy that supposedly has cream in it, and lingenberries which is red jam. They serve other things as well, but if we go, this is what we have. At the self service drinks, there was a man with his small son. His son was explaining in detail that he wanted a mix of carbonated drinks: orange, lemon/lime, and lingenberry (not red jam this time, but red pop). It struck me as an excellent idea. Ikea pop is not all that nice, so combining the flavours might be a winner. I told the man and his son that I was going to try mixing the orange and lemon. The child nodded sagely, and the father initially looked surprised and then remarked that I wasn't going to add lingenberry. It's true, I'm too much of a girl to try that, it would be an experiment too far. The mix I had was nice though, and I would have it again, in spite of the strange looks I got. I don't think mixing your pop is a sin, even for grown ups, is it?
Walking through the free Ikea maze (finding the way out), we came across a former colleague of mine. We had got on well as colleagues and had regarded each other as friends, but had lost touch in the fallout from PIA. I was lovely to see her, but became awkward for both of us as there were so many topics off limits. We parted quite quickly. Afterwards, I felt a bit shaken up. It brought home to me what an achiever I had been and how little I have achieved in the last five years. I tried not to feel humiliated that she said that she had thought of me when she was in B&Q. A couple of years ago, word had got round that I was working there, and a handful of former colleagues had come at various times to view how the mighty had fallen. I had forgotten this difficult period, and it hurt to be reminded, even though I knew that my friend in Ikea had not meant any unkindness. I cheered up in the end. Nick was very sweet and affectionate to me, we got on with the day.
This evening, Nina and I have been trying to find someone to take R's place on the trip to Richard Herring's gig on Tuesday. We've tried lots of people, but it is very short notice. Nina has a friend who I know slightly who will come, so at least there won't be an empty seat. We are both sulking a bit about today's Morrissey gig being cancelled, but being ever so brave. Anyway, I made the best use of the time by watching another extremely poor episode of Casualty. I mean, I worked for the NHS for six years and never had sex in an office with venetian blinds. What was I thinking?
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