Gone to Shit

The best laid plans, they say, are apt to go wrong. This week, my precious holiday week, is a good example of that.

First, there was my friend P, who has the dreaded lurgy, and thus had to cancel our long-planned lunch today. And secondly, there's my mother. I try to limit contact with my mother to neutral territory. Going to her and P's love-nest, which bears no resemblance at all to my family home, and has all traces of my dad eradicated, always makes me feel a bit sad. So, despite her campaigning for me to go out to have dinner with them this week, I'd made my excuses, and we'd agreed to have lunch in town. I booked a lovely restaurant for 1pm tomorrow. Except, rather gruesomely, my mother emailed to tell me she has roaring cystitis, and piles. I don't even want to think how that came about. So, I've had to cancel evening plans with another friend tomorrow, and am schlepping out there to have dinner with her and P after all.

Excellent.

Add to that the crappy weather, and the fact that I was verbally abused by a homeless person who was treating Waterstones like her living room, and it's not going brilliantly. Not to mention my upstairs neighbour who's knocking down a wall - every blow he makes feels like it's going through my skull.

Let's hope no-one else (especially me) gets ill, and that my hairdresser doesn't end up being snowed in or something.

Gone to Shit - Lightspeed Champion