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I hate it when schools go back – the trains and buses are full again. This is also not helped by my morning train being reduced this morning from 8 carriages to 4. So yes, hate.

I hate the number 37 bus driver. Every night it’s my only option to get to Clapham Junction from work and every night he sits at every station for a minute, so I miss the 4.38 train home. Apart from last night as the train was four minutes late, but still.

I hate it when I get the wrong thing. Shaun forgot to make some toast for me this morning (I get H ready so I’m not entirely lazy here) so I picked up what I thought were two plain croissants. Seems they’re apricot ones. I LIKE PLAIN. Sigh.

That’s all my hate for now.