I am quite proud of myself, although maybe I don’t have full agency and so I’ve nothing to be proud of. So far I’ve not let my situation get me down, I’ve managed instead to think about what I can do rather than what I can’t and I’ve managed to do everything I can to move myself forward. One day I’ll be all smiles.
In other news the war on misery porn continues. I thought I’d thrown it all out but we get so much of it that if I turn my back for ten milliseconds someone puts some out on the shelves. I’m actually pretty reviled at how many older women there are who come in and buy what amounts to paedophile porn books. Okay, so it’s meant to be “nonfiction” and is supposedly survivor’s real life experiences all that bollocks, but I’ve flicked through some of this stuff and it’s written like porn, which disgusts me and so in the fucking bin it goes.
I swear though people don’t bother to look at what they’re putting out. I found a copy of In the Shadow of the Sword in amongst the fiction so I immediately relabeled it and put it in the history section where it belongs. The lackadaisical attitude to things grates on me a bit. I found a Warhammer 40K book on the shelves for £2 and I checked it out and sure enough it’s worth about £20. I reckon about once a week they’re letting books like that go for stupid prices mainly because they’re just not switched on. They’re taking books off the stock room shelves and not even bothering to look at them, it’s just a book. Take the front facing books: the non-fiction section has them, because I do them, we do actually have some good books in so I make sure that they’re on show. The fiction section doesn’t because the person who runs fiction basically doesn’t give a shit. Of course my books are selling fast: people can see what the fuck they are.