Friends keep teasing me because I took the war and associated impending doom too seriously. I wanted to stock up on bottled water. You never know what's going to happen. Tesco's had a whole empty aisle with stickers on the shelves saying "no water, sudden rush because of the war" or words to that effect. Eventually, I found five-litre bottles of water in a small grocery shop in East Finchley where news of the war clearly hadn't reached them. I bought six. Then I stocked up on other essentials: gaffer tape (no idea why), think plastic dustbin liners, battery-free radio, torches, you know.
One friend, P, kept teasing me. "Sipped your water yet?" The bottles and other stuff are stored behind my bathroom door. I figured in the event of war, my bedroom/ensuite would be my combined sealed room.
Of course now, it looks like I might have been premature in all this planning.
But I figure, what I could do, is when I start a film production company, in recognition of the hard time I went through, I could call it Thirty Litres and a Wind-up Radio. What d'you reckon?
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