Language: Frequent, Strong

Fuck it. Fuck it all, and then fuck it again for good measure.

The Other Half has been in Tenerife on business since Monday. He's been living in relative squalor, with no bedding or towels and intermittent loo roll. He was due home this evening - Small Person and I were supposed to go to the airport to collect him and his colleague. We were both excited; her because it was an adventure and she's missed him, me because since he's been away I've been in a sort of trance. Seriously, it's like my arm fell off or something. I can't sleep (although this might be because Stephen fucking Hawking woke me up with ear-bleed tv at 12.45 am...only turning it off at 1am when I hammered on his front door, hopefully scaring the bejesus out of him in the process. The cunt..), I can't eat, I don't know what I'm doing. So anyway, tonight was supposed to involve me picking them up from the airport then dropping them at their respective homes, safe in the knowledge that at some point tomorrow I get a huge, huge cuddle and the security of him being home for a couple of months. Instead, just as we're heading out of town, I get a phone call explaining that they've missed the flight. It was delayed so they were in the cafeteria watching the screens. It went from "delayed" to "boarding, last call" and when they got to the gate it had gone. It transpired that the Iberia staff had been paging them but, in the words of one of the mouth-breathing fucktards on the Iberia desk "the speakers don't work by the cafeteria". Oh well, fuck you very much, Iberia. Easyjet have three no-shows on a flight into the UK but for some arcane reason they are unable to resell the seats. This is beyond me - they could effectively charge three times the price and they'd sell them - tonight anyway. So at the moment our brave boys are sitting on the floor in Madrid airport hoping to make standby on a midnight flight into Heathrow. Should this come off (and should they be able to secure a hire car at this end), I can expect a tired and dishevelled Other Half on my doorstep at around 4am tomorrow. If not, there's a possibility of getting into Gatwick via Lisbon at 13.oo tomorrow (I am in contact with Colleague's girlfriend who is a good friend of mine and who is playing travel agent on her enviable broadband connection attempting to source an alternative). Failing that, I'll see him sometime on Tuesday. It may yet come to that - the Lisbon/Gatwick flight is over seven hundred quid each although I expect the company credit card will take the necessary battering.

Bottom line is this. I've been on my own since Monday (apart from Small Person who has been a tower of strength this evening - she bravely stayed up til 9pm to keep me company). I may yet be on my own for another three nights. I do not function well on my own. I need that man to come home, and soon. Do you hear me, Iberia? Easyjet? These are people and they need to be home. I know that on the grand scale of things this is vastly insignificant. But, fuck it. It's my blog and I'll whine if I want to.

That is all.