I suppose I may have been just slightly irritable when I came in. I suppose it's no-one's fault that the shoulder strap of my lovely vintage leather case snapped at the station and I had to carry it for three hours in the same hand as a heavy carrier bag whose handle had transformed into piano wire, and have under my arm a folder (which never did fit in lovely bloody vintage leather case). I suppose it's not their fault someone sneezed in my face on the Victoria Line and now I feel as if the inside of my head and throat has been sandpapered. But jeez, surely a woman can expect to come home to a sea of welcoming smiles, a perfectly clean and tidy house and a hot dinner ready... can't she?

No comments:
Post a Comment