I survived another summer without getting sunburned, getting stuck in a traffic jam on the M6, going anywhere *near* a caravan, making forced smalltalk with other people's husbands over disappointing barbecues (barbecues are always disappointing, in my experience, plus they are deeply ethically suspect) or - worst of all - having to play rounders or otherwise throw and catch things in the name of good clean fun.
I hate good clean fun. As August progresses I become more and more misanthropic, and by the time the Bank Holiday weekend comes around I just don't want to see anyone or do anything. Let it be over!
And it seems that it is. M accidentally invited his whole offspring-plus-significant-others collection round for dinner last night and I nearly hid in my bedroom till they'd all gone, but in the end I rallied. I don't think they noticed, or only a bit.
Only a bit is ok, I don't mind being discernibly prickly. Most of my favourite people are.
And now I can start wearing jumpers again. Hooray.
joella
1 comment:
In Manchester city centre this afternoon I was caught in a spectacular thunderstorm which seemed to say 'right that's it folks, you can put the barbecues away now'. And I must admit that once I had wrung myself out I felt rather like you- sort of relieved, in a 'well it was good while it lasted' sort of way...
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