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.