Well, can't you just tell I'm back?

Can’t you just tell that I’m back from my holidays!

Not only is it October (which means that the shops are full of Christmas cards, baubles, tinsel and crackers but nothing that is remotely useful in the meantime), but it’s p*****g down with dull grey skies. The train was late this morning and therefore missed its ‘slot’ all the way up the line and got stuck at every red signal between Oxted and Victoria, and I waited 25 minutes for a circle line tube which was, apparently, running a ‘good service’.  

To top it all off, we have no phone nor internet due to a major fault at BT’s end (along with most of Bletchingley and Godstone, so I understand) so I can’t check my bank account to see how much I have overspent on my holidays and The Hubby cannot complete an important job application form which must be done by Wednesday and submitted on line. The BT fault reporting line says the problem is not likely to be fixed until Wednesday 3^rd, which means in more ways than one we are totally f****d! So I’m writing this at work!

I could turn this into a rant, which might at least make me feel better, but mostly it would serve no purpose other than bore you all rigid. But I must say there’s nothing like a good rant from time to time as I’m sure you’ll agree. To be honest, there doesn’t even have to be anyone there to listen or to reply to me, just getting it all out of the system is incredibly cathartic.

I have in the past made the mistake of having the rant without also dealing with the issue calmly and reasonably. It’s an approach which has got me nowhere and lost me a few friends. So now, I tend to rant on here and be reason personified (well, for a while) to resolve it or get what I want. But I still think there is a definite place for the rant, and that it’s very important.

I could never be one of those repressed people that don’t show their feelings at all. I mean, surely we all need an outlet? I always get the feeling that that sort of person must go home and punch through the living room door in frustration, don’t you? Either that or they kick the cat or something!  If they don’t what do they do to calm down and sleep at nights? There’s no way that I could go to bed and sleep (even though emotion and frustration makes you exhausted) if I hadn’t managed to get it out of my system somehow.

Some people, of course, turn to counselling and good luck to them if it works for them. It never has for me, and every counsellor I have ever come across (I saw a couple of them when my first marriage broke down) has been a sanctimonious, patronising w****r (gosh, there’s a lot of swearing in today’s blog! Must mean I feel strongly). And many people I know (but not all) who have seen counsellors certainly don’t seem to have derived any benefit from it, but then perhaps I have a biased and slightly jaundiced view of them (the counsellors, not the friends!)

Anyway, got to knuckle down now for a few weeks until I go away again (the benefit of having your own place abroad is you can go often and cheaply!). Knowing my luck it’ll chuck it down the whole time and there will be a major rail failure at least once a week. Hey ho…..