Pissy

Sometimes it helps to talk about these things, you know? Get them off your chest. Vent. Throw a bit of drama.

I'm not having a good morning:

I splept badly last night, dog tired when I went to bed and then *bing* wide awake when my head hit the pillow. It took me a bit longer than normal to get to sleep and then a night of tossing and turning ensued.

I missed my train. It was on the platform while the woman in front of me in the queue for the ticket machine fiddled in her purse for change, only to then cancel the transaction because she didn't have enough coin. I managed to buy my ticket, but then a young guy with his iPod cranked up was obliviously walking slowly down the steps to the platform, holding up a queue of people behind him trying to get past and make the train. I got to it just as the doors shut. (You can believe that I shot some very un-Buddhist mindwaves of slow burning contempt in his direction. My bad.)

I had to walk to work in the rain.

I got to the office only to remember that my boss was having a day off, that some of the other staff are on a training session and the only other staff member was the part-timer due in at 9.30. I don't have a key. I sat outside and read my book ("The Handmaid's Tale" by Margaret Attwood) thinking a 45 minute wait would be ok. The part-timer was an hour late.

So here I am, and the phone's ringing off the hook with one problem after another... just pray the coffee machine is still working because otherwise it's going to get ugly.