It's been pissing down with rain from the minute CX421 set down at Heathrow around 10pm last night.
A fourteen hour flight brought me from humidity, heat, and the occasional short, sharp downpour to relentless cold rain.
Add to that the cancellation of my visit with Jessica and I'm not a happy hombre.
I flew 5000+ miles to see my kid and its waived off as if I lived around the corner.
Not answering texts, calls or emails is a pretty shabby way to blow me off.
As I've said many a time, its a marathon not a sprint, but sometimes the whole thing seems a bit pointless. Another trip to the rip off machine that is the British legal system may be in order ,though only to focus the mind of my ex (she's cheap and won't want to pay a lawyer).
I'm under no illusion that spending £2K will get any sort of resolution. The system simply takes your money but doesn't enforce its judgements.
Unless the shoe is on the other foot.
Fathers, whether it be regarding support issues or otherwise get a pasting in the courts.OK tirade over.
I'm wondering what to do on this grey wet Sunday as Plan A seems to have gone out the window.
I've got no end of mundane jobs pending: laundry, boxing up the flat, banking crap, cleaning , a cull of 10 years of clothes hanging in a closet but never worn, etc.
I could just head to the pub with the Sunday papers, eat, drink Guinness and blow off a dull grey afternoon.
Upon reflection, I think I'll do.............nothing.