Thursday is the new Friday. In the last two weeks, I shifted my Friday night routine (shopping for Mr G) to Thursday. Again, Mr G saved me from working from home past 6 pm and snacking all day. He’s my hero. He gave me a good excuse to finally swap the bland indoors for a cooler, darker outside, heavy rain on my face, and wind trying to pull my hood off. The run was no delight, really, but ten times better than marinating in mellow cosiness. Mr G makes me feel alive on evenings like that.

Fewer items to purchase in Sainsbury’s today, with grated cheese, oats and tuna off the list. I had been buying Mr G four packs of tuna tins in the last few weeks, so he might not have been able to keep up. Today was the week to restock his giant bag of walnut halves, though.

Mr G is looking into changing his diet a little bit, since, like many of us, he fell victim to skimpflation. The ready meals, like the chicken bake I get him, dramatically increased their potato-to-chicken ratio to the point they’re almost vegetarian meals, stuffed with cream and with traces of protein. Next time, when I shop for Mr G, I’ll keep an eye out for something more nutritious.