Take this morning. Remember that Husband who, being the kind of chap who leaps out of bed with a gay laugh to salute the new day, is therefore responsible for making breakfast and my packed lunch while I grope around wishing I were dead and being kept away from sharp knives and boiling water for my own safety - remember that he is visiting Grandma this week. For that reason I got out of bed half an hour earlier than usual and zombie-like made myself a fried egg sandwich and a cup of tea. I even managed to leave the house more or less on time.
As I passed the side of the house I saw the heap of foliage on the ground. The Old Bastard who lives next door had been flailing away at my beloved climber with a blunt object and smashed it down where a tendril had delicately slipped over his boundary line, taking no care but doing as much damage as his withered arm could manage. This is a man who is too weak to do any work in his own garden but can find the energy to interfere in mine. So I went off up the road in a fine old temper.
The usual wait for the bus. On the train, looking out for the foxes (there had been three on the track the day before), a fast train pulls past at the only place I can see them, so I couldn't see anything.
Got out at City Thameslink and remembered that it was Wednesday and therefore to pick up the free magazine for Daughter. Well done me.
As it was my turn to buy the milk, I had thoughtfully decided not to bother making myself a sandwich for lunch, as I could buy them both together in Tesco, thus saving lots of time and trouble. Remembered to go to Tesco. Well done me again. Except that Tesco had a rotten selection of sandwiches and no milk.
So I had to go to the little kiosk and pay over the odds.
And all of this before I even got to work. No wonder I'm tired.
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