I'll only say it thrice

Yes youths on bus, I will only say - very politely I might add - excuse me, thrice. And when I say it three times and you don't move, then I will shove you out of the way, as I had to do, probably knocking into several people with my massive bags, at the same time.

It was a shocking enough bus journey, having stopped at Kings Cross for five minutes - and no discernible reason - to then drive round to the next stop and stop again to change drivers. Then as I'm getting ready to leave, all these people flood on and I have to gently shimmy through them, only to reach an impasse involving the back of a youth and his unwillingness to move.

Talk about oblivious! Urgh!

I try to avoid direct contact with the teenage youth variety, mainly due to genuine terror, but today they left me no choice. Contact was unavoidable.

Next time I'll try, get out of my way, get out of my way, get out of my way, and see if that works. Or fuckin' move, fuckin' move, fuckin' move. Or shift, shift, shift. There are plenty of options.

So, just how weirdly wrong are £50 notes? Granted I don't see a lot of them, they are 99% fictitious, but I received a cash payment today for one of my classes and it was a £50 note and there was something so bizarre about it. It's huge and the writing looks wrong and it's weird to think of a piece of paper being worth that much.

But, I am not complaining as I add it to my holiday fund for this year. Absolutely not. Still, they are weird.

Finally, it really is true that once you turn 30, partying becomes an issue and not just with your mental state but also your physical state. I journeyed to Nottingham for a Wassail, at the weekend, my first Wassail actually and thoroughly enjoyed beating the spirits out of the apple tree and chanting and drinking vast amounts of tasty cider, both chilled and mulled. I also seriously enjoyed our mini dance floor and subsequent karaoke sing along, consisting of about five of us, whilst the rest of the guests pretended they didn't know us.

But when two days later you've suddenly developed a cold and you feel all achy and bunged up and dizzy, you think, I really can't do this anymore. The late night and alcohol induced sleep and double speed chinwagging - self employed, don't get out much - all combine to make a sore throat and spaced out body and a lovely cranky tiredness.

I must point out that I did have a lovely time though and I expect another Wassail next year. I just need to work on my recovery time from said events.

Well, that was a short rant. Enjoy your Monday. 

Rants