Irritants

I am the most mild and equable of men, as anyone will tell you. Occasionally, though - most occasionally - the world contrives to annoy me almost past bearing.

Yesterday? Twice.

First time, I was in the pharmacy buying over-the-counter remedies, under advisement (thank you, advisors!). Cold-and-flu capsules, to be specific. Marketed as LemSip Max, in boxes of 16. £1.19. Exactly next to those, boxes of LemSip Max Daytime, also in boxes of 16. £3.29. Puzzled and curious, I examined the two more closely, and - you're way ahead of me here, right? - they were exactly the same. Exactly. Same manufacturer, same ingredients, same quantities. Very nearly three times the price, because they had put the word 'Daytime' on the box. I was - enraged.

Second time, coming home late after performance of play (audience small but very enthusiastic, thank you - which is the keynote of the tour. I keep thinking foolish things like "there must be more than twenty theatre-lovers in the city of Sunderland, surely?"), I was hungry and made noodles. And went to add a dribble of my home-made chilli oil - and found that the rubber seal of the Kilner jar I kept it in had perished, to the point of liquefying. It had dribbled all orangely down into the oil, and made a sticky and inedible mess. Snarl.

"Chaz Brenchley's chilli oil: hot enough to melt rubber." It's a selling point, I guess...