Skin type: thick yet shiny

I've spent most of my Friday evening navel-gazing in a self-pitying doldrum of woe after discovering A Bit Of A Betrayal.

/me dons bonnet.

A few hours of introspection later, I am now channelling my grandmother. It wasn't like this in the War you know, bit of chicken carcass was all we had.

My cleverly buried point is that we're a bit bloody weak and feeble these days. How bad can it possibly be? And what good did it ever do anyone to sit about contemplating badness from every which conceivable angle?

Disclaimer: I am, of course, referring to every-day events, not serious emotional issues.

So anyway, I've given myself a kick in the shin and the Stiff Upper Lip has resumed operation. Nobody else is bored and wasting their weekend, after all.

As for the Bit Of A Betrayal, I shan't be melodramatic about it, one tends to look a bit of a poncing great wanker. But the lesson for today is as follows:

The you that people see is not always the you inside. Which is just as it should be.