Whilst unable to sleep on Sunday night (possibly due to excessive guilt about my failure to attend church), I was reading 'The Book of Lists 2', sequel to 'The Book of Lists', neither of which have been far from my bedside during bouts of insomnia over the past twenty years.
Anyhoo, having read the list of 'Eight Unusual Dolphin Incidents' and 'Sixteen Famous People Who Grew Marijuana', I came across 'Thirty-One Words Rarely Used in Their Positive Form'. Which included such words as...
Advertent (heedful) (negative: inadvertent)
Consolate (comforted) (negative: disconsolate)
Descript (described) (negative: nondescript)
I particularly like the word 'peccable'. So I've decided to make more effort to drop these sadly neglected words into casual conversation.
But anyway, having been gruntled by a particularly sipid bagel and a delible e-mail from Lisa yesterday morning, I went into Ipswich. Which turned out to be a profitable trip when I spotted three number plates in the correct order within twenty minutes. I'm developing quite a gust for this game. Though my habit of driving along looking at cars on the other side of the road could prove to be a bit nocuous. I'm not sure it's entirely licit either.
Having met a couth, yet clumsy, shop assistant in Boots, who dropped my Bisodol tablets on the floor in an act which was frankly evitable, I took my mother to Tescos, where she warned me about a checkout girl who likes to comment on the number of cherry yoghurts you have in your trolley. I'm not the most placable person when it comes to supermarkets, and such a conversation would have had an algesic effect on me, so we headed for a different checkout.
Then it was back to my parents' kempt home, where I walked in with my maculate shoes and got mud on their kitchen floor. I have quite a domitable spirit, so I felt a bit guilty.
But my conscionable mother soon cleared that up, while my feckful father started demonstrating magic tricks and talking about his new life as a supplier of dodgy videos on E-bay.
Which was too much for me. I grabbed my wieldy bag and left.