Small sadnesses

Stepping on a paving stone which is secretly loose and is concealing a not inconsiderable puddle, which then splashes all the way up into your knickers.

Thinking it’s Wednesday all day when it’s actually Tuesday, and not realising until 20 minutes before Bake Off isn’t going to be on the telly.

Nail varnish remover which doesn’t so much remove your nail varnish as turn it into a deeply pigmented oil which encases your entire hand.

WH Smith.

Drinking the most delicious cocktail in the world and then being unable to exactly recreate it. (Oh, the Hugo. I shall never love another like you).

Autumn, if you’re a bee.

Rubbish tea.

When good cardigans get holes in.

The impossibility of keeping a stainless steel sink looking clean.

When you listen to a song too many times and you think you have no upper limit for how many times you can listen to it but then it turns out that you do and then the song is broken and you can never listen to it again.

Toothbrush mug gunk.

The first time you listen – really listen – to the lyrics to Hey Ya and realise that they aren’t jolly, not a bit.

Dresses that get a tiny bit shorter with every wash.

Going past a blue plaque too fast on the bus so not being able to read it.

Not driving the bus.

Margarine.

The inevitably of dust.

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