It is amazing how the day of the week can have an effect upon your state of mind. Often people speak of the ‘Monday Blues’ or ‘that Friday feeling’.
There are some, just a few, who seem to ride through the week without such a sense; either by being constantly happy or permanently miserable.
Mrs M is convinced that the Monday blues do not affect her; I am quick to point out that this may be due to her not working on this day with the result of merely transferring the feeling to Tuesday.
At this point in our conversation my bride changes the subject towards the jobs at home that she performs in order to prove that she does indeed work on a Monday.
The list was endless and I eventually had to concede, party because I knew I had crossed a line in suggesting that she does not work at the beginning of the week and partly because I was distracted by midweek football on the telly.
It is interesting that each day of the week was named after something significant but has now just become a descriptive word to help us to plan our lives.
So whether Thursday is recognition of the god Thor or Monday is an acknowledgement of the moon is irrelevant to our daily lives.
Perhaps we need to think again about what we call them in light of our effected mood.
Monday could be ‘moan day’ to give understanding to our depressed association with returning to work after the weekend. In a similar way Friday could be designated as an extra day off and be known as ‘free day’.
Altogether a more pleasing way of looking at it I think.
I recently visited France for a few days with work and had the pleasure of meeting some of our fellow Europeans. I had in mind the British preoccupation with feelings being linked to certain days.
I was pleased to note that they too seemed affected in a similar way. At the beginning of the week there was a general lack of motivation visible. By the Friday they were a lot more upbeat as the thought of weekend came in view.
I cannot claim that there is any connection but I did notice that lunchtimes contained more red wine after Thursday than is usual back at home. The only celebration of the weekend that we indulge in is a bacon butty on Friday morning.
Perhaps this is it; for the French they are merry due to wine and we are merry due to eating pig on bread.
On returning from the continent I asked my wife to comment and she concluded teo things: Only a man would wonder about such things and only a man would be excited by the thought of a bacon butty. O Contraire!
Monday Blues
Foraging
There was a time when Sunday afternoon TV was a family safe experience; apart from Songs of Praise that is.
Now, however, I am forced to get through my well-earned weekend slice of toast whilst watching someone called Bear Grylls eating all manner of creepy-crawlies.
As I write he has just caught a beetle, that seemed to be minding its own business, and popped it in his mouth without thought for what it might do for my digestion. He followed this less than appetising starter with a main course of moth maggot. He first removed its innards before consumption because otherwise, apparently, it would have been disgusting and contain something harmful. To say that he was trying to present it as an enjoyable experience he seemed to do a lot of spitting out.
I think the point of the show, apart from putting me off my mid afternoon snack, is to remind us of our long lost role as hunter-gatherers.
Well let me nail my colours to the mast and say that I am truly glad that we have moved from hunter-gatherers to shopper-baggers.
We might have become slaves to the sell-by date and the nutrition label but at least you know where you stand with a bag of salad leaf and a tin of tuna.
Whilst Bear forages in the undergrowth of Latin American countries I am happy to dodge the shopping trolleys of the Great British public in order to makes sure that my family doesn’t have to eat grubs and bugs; give me fruit and nut any day.
The only bit of foraging we do in the supermarket these days is when we chose loose fruit and veg rather the pre-packed product offered to us. Perhaps this is the retailer’s way of appealing to our basic need to feel as if we are fully involved in the gathering process.
This said, I have noticed a similarity between Bear Grylls and me on a Saturday trip to the shops; neither of us can get a plastic bag without an argument. His need for them is less than mine because he does tend to catch and eat his prey almost in one move.
When our kids where younger they seemed to have this immediacy as an in built mechanism when it came to the pick and mix sweet section. Whilst we parents were looking around the shelves for our required produce they would appear with chocolate stained faces.
My wife was always fearful that we might be challenged by the management about our children’s’ waywardness but I had a solution ready to offer the store in such circumstances.
They could weigh the child on the way into the shop and compare this with their weight at the exit and we would willingly pay for the difference.
I could, of course, just claim they were exercising their basic instinct to be true hunter-gatherers and if all else fails blame the influence of Bear Grylls.
VAT
We are just recovering from a week off work; we didn’t jet off to the sun we just enjoyed not having to follow the usual routine. When I was a kid this kind of holiday was described as ‘we just went out for days’.
I was ok with this for a while until my wife used the ‘p’ word again mixed liberally with the ‘s’ word; so we spent much of the week either pottering or shopping.
Neither of these two activities seem fitting for a proper relaxing holiday but my wife feels the whole idea is rather thrilling.
In truth I didn’t find the shopping part too much of a problem because it meant we were able to work our way through our Christmas present list, something we normally leave until nearer the 25th.
There was, however, a change that had taken place that seemed to have both shoppers and shopkeepers confused; the reduction in the rate of VAT.
Most establishments had signs on the doors proudly declaring that they would pass on the saving to the customers ‘at the till’. I presume because the cost of re-labelling would have meant a price rise thus defeating the object of the exercise.
Two things were disorientating about the whole thing. Firstly, our normal ability to roughly calculate the cost of our purchases was completely ruined. You could see customers expecting to pay £12.99 instead being asked to hand over £12.72.
We don’t work with 72p in our world. We always expect to pay a number ending in 99p. I just ended up with 28p of loose to carry home and put in the tin on my bedside table.
You could hear elderly couples asking each other ‘Is that right?’ and ‘I don’t know’.
It was like going back to the days of decimalisation when we went from 12d to the shilling to 20p.
Back then we all complained that the price of chips went up for no reason and never came down again. Ever price rise was blamed on the changeover.
I am predicting the same complaints to be popularised over the next six months as we all come to terms with the 2.5% change.
Not all of this saving can be easily passed on to the consumer; car parking meters for example will have to remain the same otherwise we will have to put in 39p for the hour rather than 40p.
I suppose the same is probably true for other vending machines.
There is one type of establishment that I feel particularly sorry for during this time of customer confusion; The Pound Shops. Will they have to change their signage to read The 97.98p Shop.
The Chancellors stated intention for the reduction was to stimulate the economy. I hope it does. I fear, however, the net result will be a rise in the price of chips and more loose change in the tin on my bedside table. Mark my words!
