CUSTOMER: Fantastic. So I'll take two grams of the Finca del Jabanero, a gram of the Fazenda do Lacano and a gram of the Old Musty Grenson. Do you have anything for the morning after?PROPRIETOR: Oh, no, you'll still feel worthless, ashamed and promise yourself you'll never do it again. See you next week.
We are waiting for the kids to fall asleep so we can drink like civilized people: sitting on the corridor outside the cabin. The depths to which one sinks as a parent never cease to amaze. We could have just gone to bed at the same time as the children and listened to them not falling asleep. But we are on Holiday!
Immediately I began to draw a fair amount of attention, I could see people sniggering, actually sniggering at me. I tried to act normal whilst flexing biceps and breathing in. People looked up from books and stared, a group of young girls looked at me then hid their mouths behind conspiring palms... "What the hell is wrong with these people? ... What's so damn funny?"
It wasn't until the end of the shift that one of the girls I was working with let it slip that I wouldn't be getting paid for my time. Yes, that is correct. Aside from a few pounds in tips, I wasn't getting compensated or my time. I might as well just have spent the evening engaging in my normal routine of obsessive cleaning and reality television.
I fucking hate cats, usually. Like men, they're either ugly, good-looking but dumb to the point of irrelevance, or else transparently cunning. And, also like men, they do that thing where they treat you with indifference, until you withdraw your affections, and then they're all over you like salt on chips.
I will admit many things, one of which is my inability to follow a map, and poor sense of direction. Well, if I were being totally honest, I'd confess, I have no sense of direction whatsoever. My husband will quite happily back me up on this point for I have demonstrated on many occasion, much to my shame and his amusement, getting lost even in familiar surroundings.
Everything's a marketing opportunity. Our existence is only a chance to prove how brilliant we are, and to congratulate our mates for their brilliance too... The fact is, the more we PR our lives online, the more isolated we become. With every 'Ibiza. Done' status update we move further and further away from meaningful relationships with our families, friends and lovers.
Anticipating coffee and a bun on the second morning of the holidays, I was assaulted by the first Back to School display of summer. No sooner have the holidays begun than we're preparing for them to end: hardly had I dragged myself home on that final half day of term, than the postman assured me with a cheeky grin that the break would be 'gone before I knew it.'
Despite it being the summer, Freshers and the beginning of term will be upon us before we know it. There will be thousands of fresh-faced, nervous 18 year olds in the pool of trepidation which is first year. They will currently be dreaming of freedom and what university life in Plymouth (of all places) will be like.
There are, I suspect, some adults who will be seduced by this kind of jolly CBeebies singalong advert. Who will merrily have their brain wiped clean of all the bad news stories that have plagued the energy industry and from now on look at British Gas as Brian Cant would Humpty - with fondness and kindness. Aren't they silly and sweet? I'm afraid I am not one of them.
I'm thinking about how angry I am that someone in London fixing my bathroom has put in a shower tray rather than a flat-tiled floor. I'm sitting in this perfection, attempting to practise being mindful, focusing on the beauty before my eyes but no, I'm dragged back to the shower tray saga and getting more and more angry. I'm trying with all I've got to not hate myself for being so shallow.