I'm second in line at the 7 Eleven. I have in my hand the single item that I need, and four more that I just want. A Thai enters and stands right next to the counter. The clerk knows I'm stood in line. I said hello to him when I entered and he has already eyes the handful of junk that I'm patiently waiting to disperse over his counter. The guy infront of me collects his change and the clerk immediately turns to serve the newcomer.
I stand there, more patient than before until a packet of cigarettes had been picked, then changed and then paid for. Now it's my turn. Now there is nothing left to do but serve the foreigner, now I can buy the single item that I need, and the four more that I just want.
On my way home from the 7 Eleven I'm approaching the lights when they start to change. I have plenty of time to slow down and stop. The three bikes and two cars infront of me speed up to get through the lights, then as they turn red and I'm almost at a standstill, three more bikes and a truck fly past me barely in time to avoid the traffic that is now being shown green.
I am left at the junction, alone on the line, the light on my bike showing that I'm in Neutral, and I cant help but feel like the past ten minutes have been choreographed for an artistic short film to visualise my mood.
I fucking hate being ill.