Wednesday March 26, 2008
I just emptied my old-fashioned pencil sharpener and the room is suddenly filled with the scent of pencil shavings. My memory is stimulated, or irritated if you prefer, ranging up and down the years, over half a century, from the pencil sharpening corner of the math class in my primary school, through a whole series of stationery cupboards and finishing up in a stationery store in an office building in the Old Bailey where… well, there’s no need to go into detail.
Makes a chap pause and think for a bit, though.
Anyway, another eventless day. Graham called into the agent briefly, to check things out. He’d gone into the town centre to post off an eBay packet. Came back to pick me up at Sainsbury’s. He’d seen a notice in the post office advertising for part-time post office counter work and is rather taken with the idea as a means of boosting his pocket money while we wait for a sale. Leastways, that’s what he says. I reckon that, whether he knows it or not, the inactivity of our present phase is getting to him and he needs something concrete to keep him occupied.
Me, I’m happy enough twiddling my thumbs and remembering stationery stores past.