- Why is it so fucking cold in here? Seriously, my tiny hands are frozen and I have the nose of a healthy labrador. In protest, I have donned the dusty, ill-fitting cardigan that has languished on the back of my chair for the last three years, but nobody seems to have noticed.
- Why does the Ex consider that it will be a sound idea for him to take his car off the road this summer and ferry our six-year-old daughter around on the back of his motorbike? I have nothing against bikes, or bikers, but I am vehemently against a tiny fragile girl being endangered in that way. When she's bigger I have absolutely no problem with it - it's the her-being-six part that does my head in.
- Why am I not thin yet? I'm bored of dieting already and need a kebab and five pints of Stella, stat.
- Is it going home time yet?
- Is it wholly unreasonable of me to expect that everyone else on the road should just GETTHEFUCKOUTOFMYWAY when I'm in a hurry of a morning? I mean, I'd do the same for them (except I wouldn't, obviously).
- Are we there yet?
- Where can I engage the services of a large burly man with access to large musical instruments in order that, by the old-school device of dropping a piano on him, the Ex question need no longer apply?