This morning I followed him to the train station as he was due to go back home again, and felt unusually tired as we sat in the taxi on the way to the station. We said good bye, and I got on the local train heading straight to work. By this stage I could barely keep my eyes open.
I never had any time to have breakfast before dropping my dad off, and at work I grabbed a cup of tea and thought I'd eat something as soon as I became hungry. But hungry I never got. Instead I worked all day until 6 pm, went back home feeling tired and really angry. I blamed it all on the early morning, the long working day and the lack of food, and therefore headed to the shop to pick up something for dinner.
In the shop I bought a loaf of bread. And a bag of crisps. Walked around the shop in search of something to tickle my fancy for dinner intake, but no such luck. Instead I bought the above together with a packet of cigarettes and headed home.
After forcing myself to eat a cheese sandwich I fell asleep in the settee, highly annoyed and in a bad mood in general. And when I woke up, 3 hours later, it all suddenly became clear to me as I scoffed the whole bag of crisps, drank a large can of diet coke and told the cats to f*ck off.
...PMS. Of course. Oh glorious womanhood. By tomorrow I might just be back to normal again, but I wouldn't put my money on it. You've been warned!
