So Many Targets, So Little...Actually, There's Plenty Of Time

"NO! I TOLD YOU! ALL THE FUCKING TIME, NOW LEAVE JESS' SEAT ALONE!"

This is what the woman sitting opposite me - the one who, five minutes ago, was ignoring her crying baby while she sent text after text on her cell phone - is currently screaming at one of the other two children. Who is approximately three years old. Granted, both of the little girls (minus the one in the pram) are running wild, and I would have liked to see them have a little more decorum. But hell, if that's the kind of parenting mom does, what can you expect?

Yes, I know. I'm judging too soon. She could just be having a really, really bad day. Maybe she got dumped. Maybe she got fired. Maybe her father has just found out his AML has come back after a long remission. Who the heck knows? All I know is that I'm in a snarky mood right now, and that woman is very close to getting a tongue-lashing from me. Especially since she told one of her kids to sit in my (reserved) seat, without even asking me.

I booked my ticket online. I checked the boxes to request a seat on a table, with a power point for my laptop, and explained to them that I'm disabled and cannot sit comfortably in a normal seat. I paid the extra for the privilege and was assured that my seat would be there. I paid my booking fee. Of course, I got to the train, and it's not the seat I paid for. If I sit in the seat they gave me I'll be in agony after ten minutes, and this is a two-hour journey. So I'm sitting here on the floor of the train, because three men - who aren't even using electricals, for fuck's sake - have occupied the table seats.

Oh, lovely, the older child - probably five - has just asked her mother, "Where shall I put my bloody wet ones?" Not sure what wet ones they are, I'm hoping it's just tissue or something.

In addition to this, when I was at Farringdon - which is the first leg of a three-leg journey - some asshole - heck, some DOUCHEBAG - was in such a hurry, he pushed my suitcase over, knocked it down a step, and the base of one of the wheels shattered. And of course the wheel came off. And because the wheel base shattered, there's nothing to attach the wheel to. I have no idea if there are people out there who repair suitcases, although I hope there are, because I am miserable at the thought that my beautiful, expensive, hot pink Pierre Cardin suitcase, which I've only used twice, may now be unusable. I did buy travel insurance with the ticket, which I know covers theft, but frankly I'm not overly impressed with the company's record so far, so who the heck knows if they would pay for damage?

I know that by tonight, or at least by the time I get home and no longer have to lug 45lbs on one wheel, I'll be laughing about this. All the crap is a learning experience, right? But right now, I'm snarky, because I'm in a great deal of pain because of someone else's screwup.

This is on top of the really fucked up text message I got this morning from the BFF:

I am not using this phone for this week so please don't contact me on it. Will ring you later. Don't reply to this text.

Never in my life has he sent me a text like this, and he always, ALWAYS encourages me to text him back. Even when he's at work, he'll take five minutes out to have a little conversation, even if it's just one or two messages before he tells me he has to get back to work. Whatever it is that's preventing him from getting in touch with me would have to be pretty serious, because my Mom - a woman he calls Mom, too - had a serious accident on Friday, and last time I spoke to him he was very anxious to get the news of whether there was internal bleeding or not. (There wasn't, she just cracked a couple ribs, and after four days of running around 24-7, trying to do everything she needed, in addition to everything I needed, she's insisted that I go down to Somerset, albeit a day late. And Ryan's looking after her now, to set my mind at ease a bit.)

So there are at least three people that I want to flame right now - wifey, yelling mother and inane trainline people - and I expect, that when I'm in this kind of mood, I can probably think of a couple more if I really try.

Shit. My back is killing me, and my legs hurt.

I'll try and post you something a bit more upbeat tonight, but for now I'm going to go and listen to some fuck-off music, and maybe find a cup of coffee. That'll help my moods, right?

And if I ever, EVER use the f-word when screaming at my three-year-old, you all have my permission to hunt me down.