There's plates and cutlery piled high in the sink but no washing-up liquid. The cheapest place to buy it is Dealz (that's Ireland's Poundland) and the nearest Dealz is in the city centre. I don't have a bike and the buses are unreliable, so I decide to just simply walk there and back. At least it'll mean I'm out of the house and getting exercise.

But while I'm out, I may as well buy other stuff I need as well. I end up going to five or six different shops. For example, I need a jumper from Penney's (that's Ireland's Primark). I know exactly where the jumpers are. The problem is that it takes so damn long to walk there.

Christ, walking is tedious and mind-numbing. Walk walk walk at a set pace and in a straight line, past buildings I've already seen a hundred times before. It's stimulation deprivation. And it's even not a straight line at all, because of roadworks and Dublin's Daedalian road system.

Keep putting one foot in front the other. Walk to the shop, walk to the escalator, let the escalator carry me down, look for the jumper. And guess what? Penney's have moved the jumpers since I was last in there. They couldn't just leave them in the same place, could they?  I end up searching for fifteen sweaty, stupid minutes until I realise the jumper is nowhere at all.

So I walk to the escalators again, let the escalator carry me up, walk out the shop, and then walk walk walk to Dublin's other Penney’s. There I do find the jumper, but then I have to walk to the queue, blah blah blah, you get the idea. My god. Next time I'll just buy it online and save myself an hour.

I bought the washing-up liquid too, as well as food, a notebook, and wool for knitting. By this point my backpack was digging into my shoulders like an obese child so I decided to treat myself by getting the bus home. I saw the bus with Merrion Square written on it. Unfortunately it was already heading off, like a riderless horse escaping into the desert. Another bus came, and I asked its driver, "Do you go to Merrion Square?"

He replied, "uh buh goowin a bigum road".

"Does that mean you're going to Merrion Square?” I asked.

He replied, in exactly the same incomprehensible way as before, "uh buh goowin a bigum road".

I gave up and said, "Okay, I'll take it," and then collapsed on a seat. We did reach Merrion Square, but then suddenly the bus veered to the right and started taking me away from my home instead of towards it. I quickly got off and then it was walk walk walk walk walk walk bloody walk all the way home.

And my outing didn't end there. No, at home I had to put my newly acquired crap away, sort out the receipts in my pockets, and actually do the washing up.

When my girlfriend got home from work, I told her all about my four-hour trek. I patiently waited for her gratitude and sympathy, but instead she said, "You know they sell washing-up liquid at the Tesco ten minutes from here? You should have went there instead." Then she fiddled around in the cupboards and announced, "We've ran out of kitchen foil." Looks like I have a new mission for tomorrow.