The northlondonhippy

A very typ­i­cal day for you favourite hippy, I started the week as I mean to fin­ish it, peacefully.

I was up mid-morning, later than usual actu­ally and my first task of the day was pluck­ing a few shrooms from my grow-kit. I’m plan­ning a trip with a friend of mine this week­end, and I’ve got plenty now.

Once I tended my shrooms, I sat down at the PC and did a cost analy­sis of my grow­ing expe­ri­ence to date. Fresh shrooms cost about 40p per grams, depend­ing upon where you pur­chase them. You can get them for less, espe­cially if you know where to look or are buy­ing in bulk, but your basic 30gram por­tion of Mex­i­can p.cubes should cost about 12 quid.

My home grown have cost about 15p per gram, if you include all of my one– off costs. If you sub­tract the costs that will not be repeated, like the prop­a­ga­tor, spray bot­tle, ther­mome­ter, that cost comes down to 7p a gram. Well, I was impressed.

Think about how much drugs cost. I’ve read in the papers that pills are down to a cou­ple of quid each, char­lie is now sup­pose to be fifty a gram. Drugs are expen­sive, and they fuel the black econ­omy. My shrooms only fuel me and they are really cheap.

I like pro­duc­ing my own drugs. I think it’s cool. If I had the space I would have an indoor gar­den to grow weed as well. If we ever move house, I think an indoor growth space should be a require­ment. We’ll have to see what Mrs. hippy thinks about that. With the warm, humid sum­mer we had last year, per­haps I should con­sider a cou­ple of plants outside.

After tend­ing the shrooms, I read the papers online. There wasn’t any­thing too excit­ing or inter­est­ing, a slow news day.

Then it was a quick spin up to my local high street. I went into M&S, which I don’t do very often. I needed a pair of trousers and they seem to have the most choice for the short, fat, middle-aged hippy that wants to cre­ate the illu­sion of respectabil­ity. I bought a decent pair of trousers, with loads of pock­ets for 32 quid, which is not bad because M&S cloth­ing is durable, they will last me a while.

I also picked up a few bits in the food shop, though they are always out of fresh choco­late milk, when­ever I go. My younger brother raves about it reg­u­larly and I would like to try it, see if his praise is justified.

Then it was back home to relax and pre­pare for my inter­view tomor­row morn­ing. I recorded the pro­gramme that I could be work­ing on, it’s not some­thing I nor­mally watch. I’m not going to say much more about it. If the job is staff, it bet­ter pay well, because the show was dire.

I’m going into this inter­view cold. A friend and for­mer col­league rec­om­mended me for this posi­tion; I fol­lowed up with an email. Within an hour, my prospec­tive employer’s assis­tant rang to arrange the inter­view. I didn’t ask her any ques­tions, I fig­ured I could wait to see her boss. Maybe he will be my boss too.

My gut tells me they are des­per­ate, whether it’s free­lance or staff. I could be start­ing fairly soon, in no time at all I could be back to work for real. Or they could hate me and think I am a total twat, stranger things have hap­pened. Who knows? I’ll find out the score when I see this guy in the morning.

I can feel the hippy lifestyle slip­ping away from me as I come closer to secur­ing gain­ful employ­ment. That’s not a bad thing, espe­cially the knock-on effect it will have on my finances, but there is a small part of me that will always want to remain bare­foot and high.

I’ve noticed the time, it’s just gone mid­night, north london-time. I missed out mak­ing an entry on Mon­day and this one doesn’t count, even if I started writ­ing it at 11:50pm, it will be posted on Tues­day. That means I’ll be back later to write some more. It’s late and I want to watch episode 5x4 of The Sopra­nos, which I down­loaded today. Who wants to wait for E4?