Paranoid schizoid

Knew today was going to be a bad one when the first task was to go shopping. I hate shopping with a passion, but when it is coupled with my weekend time then it makes my blood boil (a bit dramatic I know, but I just don't like it)!

Got home with the pre-planned purchase, a reserve and collect affair from one of those catalogue shops. Then the kids decided to start their whinging and whining. Normally they're as good as gold, but today they decided to have a bit of tag-team wind up. That kind of set the tone for the day. I know they are only young, but by 4 o'clock I'd had enough and stomped upstairs before I blew a fuse.

Decided to carry on my strop into the evening once the kids had been tucked up in bed. Lay on the sofa staring out of the window whilst Mrs Seal watched the Big Brother pyschoanalysis show on the telly. Not a fan personally, but found myself listening rather than watching. A dude started explaining about one of the housemates paranoid schizoid tendencies. A bit harsh I thought, but apparently we all have these tendencies from time to time. At this point I realised the expert had just summed up exactly my behaviour for the day and I suddenly felt Mrs Seal's eyes move their attention from the screen, across the lounge and towards me. I glanced back and we both broke into a smile followed by a bit of laughter. I might be a paranoid schizoid, but at least I can laugh at myself!

Strop over I picked up the camera and jumped in the car to go and find a last minute blip. The grey evening light wasn't really conducive (or should that be conjusive) to photography and I cut my losses, but not before nipping in at the village shop to buy a chocolaty peace offering.

I'm sure there is some sort of moral to this story, but it's far too late for me to find a profound message in it all.