And then there are those days...

... the distinctly unglamorous days when you have to trudge around a supermarket looking for things for your daughter's birthday with a man who hates shopping even more than you do. When you buy strawberries from Egypt - even though you don't approve of strawberries out-of-season or air miles produce, and squirty cream - even though you don't approve of squirty cream - just because your daughter likes strawberries and squirty cream. When you buy a soft stripey nightie - even though you don't usually wear nighties - just because it looks comfortable, and die a little bit inside because you have always feared reaching the 'comfortable' age.
Those days when you go for a walk after lunch and it's not raining so you chose a coat with no hood and it starts raining. Soft misty, dark, miserable, persistant, soaky, rainy rain that makes your hair stick to your face and makes you walk with your head down staring at the mud and the puddles and the samey samey same old Devon hedges and the back of your husband's wellies as they go 'plod plod plod plod' in front of you and there's no talking, just plodding and wellies and mud and puddles and the dog's arse and Devon bloody brown wintery hedges. And there's no real view because it's too misty and the recycling lorry is in front of you and then it's behind you and then it's there in front of you again and it keeps stopping and you keep stopping and ... And you take an 'Oh sod it' picture of a bloody hedge that's too high to see over and it just goes on and on and on just being all wet and wintery and just there really and...
And you get home wet and pissed off and there are bills to pay and wages to do and you can't find anything and the printer ink has run out and the dog stinks and dinner is late and the pre-birthday girl won't go to sleep and you have to wrap presents and get the house a bit less war-zone-like and wine gives you a headache so you have to drink chamomile tea, only the chamomile tea has all gone and Big Brother is on TV and you wonder what's happened to the world and you go to bed late and you lie on your front on the bed in your new 'comfortable' nightie with a cracked heel and listen to your husband trying to breathe with blocked sinuses and think, 'This photo will do... This photo will do... This photo will do...'