It's All Over

Okay, okay – so I was wrong, and the world isn't about to end after all. Sorry about that. I don't often get these things wrong, but everyone is entitled to a few mistakes once in a while. I'm pleased that the flying ban is over anyway, because I'm booked to fly to Paris next weekend and I thought I'd have to cancel my trip. Now it looks like I'll be able to go after all. So hurrah for that!

I could do with a little break – after the "matters of the heart" that I spoke of a short while ago, I feel all washed up and rinsed out, so a short sojourn in Gay Paree is just what the doctor ordered. "Affairs of the heart?" you ask. Who would have thought that an old man like me could get into such a fluster about such a trivial thing as romance? But into a fluster I got, good and proper I can tell you. But now, I've sorted out my poor stupid head and heart, and the anguish has all been erased (I'm sure you'll all be pleased to learn that). The problem with "matters of the heart" is that they don't respond at all to rational thought, do they? It doesn't matter how often we tell ourselves that in fact, we're better off without such-and-such person in our lives and that in fact, jealousy is such a pitiable emotion that no reasonably well-adjusted person should allow it to compromise his self-esteem, yet still we suffer. And my goodness, I've suffered in recent days.

This morning however, I gave myself a good talking to. I have deleted a certain person's number from my mobile phone (because the alcohol-sensitive keypad hasn't yet been invented - you know what I mean), and I have decided to look on the bright side. I have been examining the qualities of said "certain person", and weighing them against the negative points (and believe me, there are many). What it boils down to is that yes, I am very definitely better off on my own. Abso-flipping-lutely! There's no doubt about it. But I have to admit - it ain't 'alf lonely, Mum!

And now, let us turn to something more cheerful. I was thinking the other day how strange it is that if we cook pizza at home, it's likely that we'll share a twelve-incher with our partner (that's if we have a partner that is – oh, don't get me started on that again), but if we go out to eat in a pizza restaurant, we get given a whole twelve-incher all to ourselves! Now why is that? Are we more greedy when we go out to eat, or is it just that restaurants can't be bothered to cut a pizza in half? I was wondering how it is in restaurants in Italy. Well, not so much wondering really, because I know the answer – I was in Italy earlier this year on my skiing holiday and I ordered a pizza one day for my lunch. Out it came, all twelve inches of it, and down it went (along with a refreshing glass of beer). Accordingly, I approached the slopes in a much more leaden fashion that afternoon, that's for sure.

Another thing that puzzles me is this: Why has my electric fly-killer broken, just as the fly season is upon us? Has it done this in protest at being left unused for several months? It seems rather a coincidence to me. You may remember that for a long time I refused to kill the flies that seasonally invade my apartment, but then I had an epiphany after my trip to Venice last summer, and decided that killing flies is a necessary evil. So then I bought myself this electric fly-killing gizmo-thingy which I reasoned was at least a humane way of disposing of these pests. But now that it's broken (grrr), and now that I've become so accustomed to the killing, I simply beat them to death with a newspaper. Hurrah!