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Monday January 2, 2006

The need for comfort food

"Might sound daft, Dolly, being the end of the big end-of-year pig-out and all, but I think I need some comfort food."

She regarded me solemnly.

"Yeah. I know. The last thing I should be doing is eating but..."

And so, I raided the freezer and the fridge and put up a medium size plate of sausage, egg, chips and beans. It cheered me immensely.

See, Graham called shortly after mid-day, just as I was contemplating a lunch of fruit and dry bread, and told me that clearing and cleaning the bars was taking longer than expected and that he'd have to postpone his return by one day, until Wednesday.

"You do understand, don't you?" he asked.

"Yes, of course. If you don't do a thorough job then when you go back in February it'll be all mouldy and spoiled. You take as long as you need."

"Oh, another day will do it."

"Has to be done. You'll only worry about it otherwise."

The problem with leaving bars in an unheated building for any length of time is that any nook or cranny that's left damp or dirty will almost certainly be mouldy when you return, with one unwiped beer spill turned magically into a field of mushrooms. Me, I'd leave a little background heat running but apparently the economics of the operation prevent that.

So, anyway, the post-feast diet set aside for a day, I sat for a while patting my comfortably full tummy, thought about taking a walk, said "Nah!" and went off for a good long afternoon nap.

I felt better about it all after that. Fatter, but much better.

 
Comfort booze and chocolates
 
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