Why must they shut their doors and leave the platform seconds before they are due to arrive?
Why must I forget to move the car seat until the morning when I'm in a hurry?
Why am I stood on a platform at 06:45?
Why?
All I wanted was to get in early to catch up on a few things.
Give myself a fighting chance on the rest of the day.
Why did I bother?
Why?
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2 comments:
How weird. Every time you say "Why", I hear "whiiiine".
Also, how is it that women 'moan' and men 'observe'. Women 'nag', men 'remind'.
Steve's wife: Please for the love of all things pure and true, PLEASE let him go back to his coke+galaxy habit - I get this suffering for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. And today - he is Whinge Commander/ Incredible Sulk.
Kate, stop trying to corrupt him. This is for the greater good of society.
No Galaxies or cokes means less snorey-kicky-twitchy sleepies on my right hand side (oh yeah, I had to sacrifice MY side of the bed when I met this one, it was that or have him wriggle over and elbow me in the face or sleep on me).
Less snorey-kicky-twitchy means wifey gets some zeds.
Wifey getting zeds means less psychopathic Witch of the West behaviour.
Less psychopathic Witch of the West behaviour means happier husband.
Happier husband means more fluffy life in the world, rainbows in the office, and pale pink bunnies floating passed the windows with nothing but champagne truffles hiding their modesty. Lovely.
You make a great sacrifice, my dear, my the time of the pink naked bunnies will dawn with the death of the evil sugar cravings. For tomorrow is a new day.
Blah blah.
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