I was supposed to have posted this last week, but it ended up a bit glum. So after letting it simmer for a bit before deciding whether or not to post it, I’m glad I didn’t and have deleted the entire above-the-line bit and started again.
It is a weird time for 6 Days From Tomorrow and for me – being out of work redefines priorities and shifts perspective (the latter, somewhat uncomfortably), which means that the times where I’m inclined to sit here and rattle off a load of drivel are fewer as well as the funds required to buy stuff to do the aforementioned drivel-rattling. This isn’t the most expensive pastime in the world (although, certain formats dictate that it can be), but while the immediate future is a bit unsettled, I have to cut my cloth accordingly. Never sure what that idiom meant, but there you go.
All of which ties in rather oddly with something I’ve been pondering this week. At this very moment, I am waiting for a pre-ordered record (or two – there was a bit of a mixup) to arrive from the US. After tracking it from Seattle earlier in the week, it left San Francisco on Friday to I know not where, because it’s not arrived yet. I was a bit grumpy about this, as I’d paid for it ages ago and I’m really looking forward to it, and I’m not alone in this grump after reading elsewhere. This is where I kind of stopped in my tracks though – when did punctuality become so important in all of this? When did expectation overrule anticipation? We buy into this stuff not for a scheduled date, but for years ahead of us. Tomorrow I’m off to a record store (Piccadilly Records in Manchester, if you must know) to see what’s there and not worry too much about the bill, which’ll make a nice change in the current climate.