Remember what I was saying about hissy fits the other week? How they just blow up out of nowhere, how nothing can talk me out of one once they're underway, and how I usually look back on them once they've blown over and think 'what a silly fuss over nothing that was'? Well, I usually do. But not yesterday's. As far as yesterday goes, I will defend to the end of my days my total and justified right to have a hissy fit.

Luckily for my long-suffering boyfriend, who bore the brunt of it, even though it wasn't his fault, it wasn't a screamy-shouty hissy fit, more the kind of raging inside, seething hissy fit, in which I actually cursed my jaw for not having the strength to grind together more that it already was. In case you haven't guessed, I wasn't a happy bunny.

First of all, it was a combination of irritating people in the vicinity of where I work, a stresssful afternoon, and being treated like a criminal by two of the flunkies we have minding the lobby of my office building.

Then, in the evening, the boyfriend and I were in Chalk Farm to watch an acoustic night, at which a friend of mine was playing. But I needed money. And for that, I needed a cash machine. My lovely boyfriend informed me there was one at a nearby Sainsburys. So, off we went, in the pouring rain. My feet were already soaked and frozen because of my slightly weather-inappropriate shoes, but he assured me it was close. And it was. But it wasn't working. And an attempt to get cashback failed when I got to the front of a long line, brandishing a tube of toothpaste and packet of gum (the only things I could think of that I needed), only to be told I needed to spend at least £5 to get cashback.

(sigh)

Unable to face getting more stuff and joining the queue again, off we trudged to a nearby pub, which had a cash machine inside. It was one of those wretched little models that charge you £1.75 for a withdrawal, but by this point I could feel trench foot developing, and was considerably past caring. Card in, details entered, 'Wait Please' flashing on the screen ..... oh, that one wasn't working either.

RIGHT.

A garage a couple of blocks down didn't have a cash point either, and I started to wonder if it would just be easier to sell my body. Although that may have been slightly optimistic, as I only wanted a tenner.

We've now been walking in the rain for about 10 minutes. At this point, the boyfriend, clearly enjoying himself almost as much as I was, said "Why didn't you try the one in the tube station?"

Huh? WTF?!?!?!


"There. Was one. At. The tube station?!" I hissed, feeling my sanity utterly abandon me.

"Yeah, wasn't it working?"
<utterly defeated> "I didn't see it."

Now both in a foul mood, we stormed back to the tube station on the way, resuming speaking to each other halfway there, once we'd established that I genuinely didn't see the blasted machine and I wasn't in the habit of making us walk the length and breadth of Chalk Farm in the pouring rain for the sheer merry hell of it.

And then, the piece de resistance of the evening. As I entered the tube station, putting my umbrella down, I had to quickly step around a pale, blonde woman who was exiting. I swear, I was in front of her, impeding her progress for less than a nanosecond.

"Make up your mind, you silly bitch," she snapped.

As I'm sure you can imagine exactly how much that helped improve my already sunny disposition, that is all I shall say on the matter. Except that I really, really hope that lady didn't have anything getting in her way as she made her way to work today. Like commuters, or women with prams, or silly bitches like me. Or speeding buses.

Oh yeah - the cash machine at the tube station. It wasn't working either.

I drank tap water all night.