Furious

Disclaimer: What I wrote below was in the heat, both literal and metaphorical, of Sunday afternoon, before we sorted out my visit to Trowbridge; after which I cooled off considerably.

Although I enjoy many forms of music, and enjoy it both recorded and (preferably) live concerts, I don't enjoy festivals; there's something about the unrelenting humanity and the atmosphere which oppresses me. After attending both Glastonbury and Trowbridge a couple of years ago, I decided to stop going, as I didn't enjoy them much.

Moonface, however, likes them and has been to both for the last few years. She asked me to come along to Trowbridge for at least a day this year, and I agreed to keep her happy. She knew I would go if the weather was half-decent, as she took some spare clothes for me, and knew that I'd declined other invitations.

Then early on Saturday afternoon she phoned to check that I was coming, and at my request, confirmed that there would be tickets available, as the online booking had closed. She forgot to mention that there weren't many tickets left. So, in the absence of a car, I cycled for nearly three hours to get there. Then, she gave me duff directions to the van, so I was hot, sweaty and fuming when I found her & Stuart. It took me a while to cool down & change, and then - what a surprise - the Festival had sold out of tickets. Moonface hadn't bothered checking how they were selling in the interim, or trying to reserve one on the grounds that I was cycling and couldn't return easily. So, as the only other choice was to sulk in my tent like Ajax for six hours, I returned home.

I arrived back knackered, too late to go out in the evening, and too angry to go to bed.
On Sunday, I was too tired to go out on the pre-arranged bike ride, which I would have gone on if I had been fresh, and hadn't attempted to go to Trowbridge.

So - what a wasted weekend.
No music.
No other social activities - cancelled because I was trying to please Moonface.
Exhausted.
Slept badly
Wasted most of Sunday because I was too tired.

God I am furious.


:o(
:o(

Postscript:

After a trip to the Lake for a calming cooling swim, I called Moonface to see if she still wanted me there. After some prevarication, I tootled off to Trowbridge by train, and spent a late afternoon and evening trying hard to enjoy myself. I didn't, that much, but I enjoyed her company and was pleased that I went. Upon our return to Bristol on Monday morning, I'd calmed down and was ready to face the world of commerce again.

Perhaps I was angry just because I missed her?

:o)