I wish I could. Today I am hemmed in unable to get out because our neighbours across the road have 8 yes 8 cars parked in the road. The young woman next door to them had their cars parked on her drive and she couldn't get out to work. She asked them to move and had to wait a good ten minutes for one of the men to come and move it. She kept looking at her watch as she was getting late for work.
Then one of the men asked her to go and park somewhere else - hasn't she got a sister or a relative she can park on their drive?
My sister is very ill. What if I need to get out quickly? What if I have one of my anaphalaxsis? I am stuffed because the man over the road is an inconsiderate arsehole who only cares about what HE wants.
I wish I could talk to my husband, but I can't phone him at work. He calls at lunchtime.
Hubby calms me down. Stops me going across the road with a baseball bat and a can of petrol and matches. OK that's a bit over the top. I spend my life controlling my temper. Half Shoreditch and half Irish with red hair equals a very short fuse.
Another rubbish thing - some moron calling himself Grampy gave me a crap review for 1955. He said it was full of typos. IT WAS NOT, Amazon checked it, my proof reader checked it, I'm pretty sure they would have noticed. I checked every word, researched everything I mentioned. He said it wasn't his 1955. Stupid sod. It was MINE not his.
GRRRRR he didn't even live in London.
JK Rowling is great with critics, when one person gave her a terrible review she just smiled and said "I've still got your money!" She has one line put downs on Twitter that are brilliant.
She just laughs it off.
Wish I could.
I'm sitting with a red face and my heart pounding wanting to be anywhere but here.