i was having much more fun when i thought we were alive;

Strange dreams last night. In the longest one I’d had a baby, and was on a bus to the zoo with all of my friends. Somebody else was playing with him but I glanced up and he caught my eye and smiled like he knew who I was. He was a hyperintelligent three-week-old and not in a smug Stuey from Family Guy way, but I was still talking about how I had to have him adopted much to my friends’ horror as they were all in love with the little guy.

I don’t know whose he was either. Maybe the hot teacher from The History Boys – I think he showed up in my subconscious at some stage as well.

My colleague Fiona tells me that seeing a baby in a dream symbolises “innocence, warmth and new beginnings” and is not necessarily further evidence of me having all the mothering instincts of a plank of wood.

The world is conspiring to make me a grumpy little bugger when my patience is already running slightly thin. I was curled up with some “music porn” (©Kymee – and no it wasn’t the fucking NME, before you ask) and my iPod on the bus home last night, shattered after work and oblivious to most things, and an older lady tried to pick a fight with me because I didn’t give up my seat automatically to an elderly lady on crutches I hadn’t noticed had just got on the bus. I smiled sweetly and apologised to the second lady, before jumping down and taking two steps to the next (vacant) seat.

Now of course I’d give up my seat to somebody who needed it without question, and I think I was more annoyed at myself than the auld bint who started on me because I hadn’t noticed and had to be told, but I certainly wasn’t in the wrong there just because I wasn’t paying attention. I have a problem with giving up seats anyway: I remember Married Andy once told me he’d rather risk offending a pregnant woman than one who was overweight, for example, and I’m pretty sure that the first lady was more able-bodied than me. You catch pensioners snarling and muttering at young people who won’t move sometimes, and sure for the most part they’re at it but just because somebody looks physically fit doesn’t mean that they are. I’ve never demanded a seat when I’ve been on public transport with blood sugar problems, for example, even when it’s resulted in me getting hurled halfway across a carriage.

God, I hate people sometimes. Like whoever’s doing work on our building at some ridiculous hour of the morning – I was washing my hair in the bath a couple of mornings ago, my head partially submerged, when they started up and it sounded like something out of a horror movie. Particularly discomfiting considering there’s a huge advert for Saw III onscreen every time I log into my email these days.

Some things to make me happy though: OMG ONE OF THE FOUR BANDS I WOULD ACTUALLY PAY MONEY TO SEE ARE PLAYING GLASGOW IN FEBRUARY (there goes £26 I probably needed for something else, but no matter!), and I have a sneaking suspicion I will be typing the blessed words SIGN OFF within the next half hour.

And it’s the weekend, of course.

PS It’s nearly panto season, so who’s after tickets for The Little Mermaid? My sister is playing a baddie with a little too much relish, she says: “People are telling me I’ll probably make little kids cry, aren’t you proud of me?” It’s going to be fantastic. And not just because I’m my sister’s biggest fan.