Woke up at 5am with BBC radio 4 informing me that my lovely pier was on fire - just days after architects had been invited to submit plans for it's regeneration. Apparently the Victorian ballroom is totally destroyed and they are battling to save the promenade at the front and the apron where there used to be concerts. I'm livid - totally fucking livid. This is the third pier I've had burn on my doorstep ( literally - in the case of Brighton's west pier).
I have to go to Brighton today to look after some students and traipse around the University Library - I'm not in the mood - most of them will go shopping, I'm sure most people would relish a day in the flesh pits of Kemptown but I can't be bothered - I'm free from 10.30 to 2pm.... the temptation to sit in a pub and weep into my beer will be overwhelming.
The dogs still have fleas that are immune to all know chemicals
Little Mouse and her weak bladder are really wearing me down - she's cranked up to pissing in the house twice a day now
The smell left behind by the rodent invasion in the kitchen will not go away
I'm very short of cash, as usual
I'm exhausted, and work outside teaching is more draining and complex than usual
The damp at the back of the house is getting worse, thanks to the old woman next door not fixing her cracked drain - I'm still thinking about knocking down the kitchen extension - cheaper than repairing it.
I've woken up in such a bad mood I can't see anything except a downward spiral of anger, frustration and shouting.... and it's going to rain.
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