Pikakahvi Days

You have to accept it. You've reached the bottom end. Finally. You know it when shopping for food. That’s when you always get to realize. It's the cheap supermarket, just across the road. Cheap as in buy an XL bag of carrots for the price of half a carrot. Cheap as in processed meat from the sweatshops of hell. Cheap as in trashy things for trashy people.

You call it a place for working class people? Budget goods for budget people I'd call it. For those not having a choice and those not having a clue what they're being sold and not giving a fuck anyway. That's how it works, and today I'm back on the lowest of levels. Or close. Back where I've been before, where I thought I'd never get back to.

Today it'll be a pack of yeast, flour, milk, tobacco. Basics. They will have to last till next weekend. Rent paid, health insurance paid, all others please queue up.

I do love the yeast. The yeast means cooling shelf. My last affordable access to the world of cooling shelves, and, yes, it means I'm still a cooling shelf person. Things still going well. See, it's a rule. If you can't afford the cooling shelves, you're on the way down. Once you're down to just flour, pasta and tobacco, you're screwed. You have to switch to instant coffee? You're in serious trouble. There's just one thing worse, that's when you have to quit the tobacco. That's when you're in deep shit. You have had it.

Pikakahvi days.