Mood

Mrs S has been a long-time, dear friend, but surely that will change, if her current mood does not.

Mrs S is never what one would call a 'laid-back' person, least of all when in her car. She is the sort who swears and shouts at other drivers – often lowering the window to do so - for (often imagined) traffic infringements, yet never seems to consider how her unvarying speed of 30 kms per hour might annoy others. She will barely crack 40 kms, even when on the motorway.

Her high-powered European car must quietly sob in its garage late at night, for the misery of a life half-lived.

Despite this, she is very good fun. But not yesterday. I began to think, one of us has gone quite mad, and I do so hope it's not me.

So. We were in the car, and I was navigating. I am quite good at this, I think. I do not shriek "turn left now" at the last possible moment. My instructions are generally quite unambiguous, like, "Come off the next motorway exit, turn left, then continue straight ahead." Mrs S dutifully came off the next motorway exit, turned left, then got into a left-turn only lane.

"Er, we are meant to go straight ahead here," I volunteered, wondering which part of "straight ahead" sounded like "turn left again."
Mrs S rolled her eyes.
"Oh," she said, in tones that intimated my incompetence was unquestionable, "bit of a communication break-down there." She rolled her eyes again.

And so it continued, with every word I uttered scrutinised and found lacking, yet the meaning entirely ignored.
Standing at a counter, I gazed at a collection of Clarins products.
"What are you thinking?" she hissed.
Even doing nothing was annoying to her.

I finally made it home. Mrs S came in briefly, said hello to Mr Smith, who grunted a cursory acknowledgement from his computer without looking up.
"What's Mrs S on?" he asked, after she had left.
I collapsed in a chair.
"The end of a sharpened stick, if she continues like that. She was an utter bitch all day."
"She's on something," he said.
"Well, she's on a diet, so probably diet pills of some sort."
"Hmmm." Mr Smith looked unconvinced.

She has porked up lately, so my money is on diet pills. However, if she continues in her current mood, being fat will be the least of her problems. I will push Mrs S into the path of an oncoming vehicle, and I will make sure it is one doing more than 30kms an hour.