Punch Drunk Rage

There are lot's of things that annoy me in this world and I think this Blog has captured a lot of them. My travels to work are a regular low point as my intolerance for the general public combined with my inability to deal with crowds in small spaces and the fact that I am NOT a morning person...all come crashing together in a slice of hell 5 times a week. This has now been completed by the addition of a busker at the station. Not only does he stand in the middle of the thoroughfare which is streaming with human traffic, he plays a recorder. I think most people relate to this being one of the most hated instruments ever invented, partly because we were all forced to play this saliva clotted tube of demented noise at primary school. Well this busker also only seems to know two tunes....Greensleeves (yes that old favourite) and a butchered version of Stairway to Heaven. It's enough to propel anyone to extreme violence and I often feel obliged to grab his recorder, whack him over the head with it and ram it up his nostril and then scoop all of his change together and put it in my hand bag.....to give to a worthwhile charity ofcourse. I would be doing so many people a favour. I was also perturbed this morning after carefully blowdrying my hair and spritzing it with hairspray, to venture out into a fog ridden atmosphere. By the time I got to work, my hair resembled something that looked like Barbara Streisand in the '70's. I should highlight the fact that I do have my period at the moment which is probably what is behind my extreme angst. Which also explains why I started to cry when I saw a photo of the dog that belongs to the girl Sophie Delezio (the one that got hit by a car, run over by a truck and cheated death). It's sad little face waiting on her bed till she comes home from hospital. God. I'm tearing up as I type...where are the tissues...