Sometimes, it matters not how much effort we put in; it can, quite simply, never be enough.
One man’s half empty glass may be another’s half full. Annoyingly enough, however, they can both be full of hot air.
All these long-drawn dramas that we have now – devised not from a television scriptwriter’s hours of blankly staring into space in need of dire inspiration, but from real-life kitchen conflicts and a night spent at the dodgy new bar down the street – are throwing a spanner in the works.
You could put out the best-laid plans, only to have the fiercest of thunderstorms wash them all away in the end.
But now in the aftermath, I am feeling strangely fine. Pray tell: can I ever be ready for this?