On those days.

Where everything is about as appealing as lightly coating yourself in the dog poo you just stepped in.

Kind-of hilarious, when none of the buses come on time and the seats are uncomfortable and everyone is wearing ugly sweaters or drawing stupid pictures. The sound of the fan in this café or the other one is sending little jabs of frustration all through the body. Everything is visceral and raw and extremely unnerving.

Why indeed are some days like this? Perhaps to promote the richness of contentment received through experiencs a little less jarring, moments and seconds that pass far more easily through the system and its functioning.

And probably a good thing, too, to feel severely annoyed about life and all the little beasts that inhabit this world, to be reminded of just how human and imperfect things are.

Now go f-off. Alright.