The Fine Line Between Happiness And Misery.

Today, I made scones all by myself.
They were delicious.
I was proud of myself.
'Er indoors and I sat in front of a roaring fire and ate them with coffee while watching cricket.
We smiled at each other lovingly.
Everything was perfect...

.....except that it was raining outside.
And that I had just made scones.
And that I was proud of that fact.
And that we were in front of a roaring fire watching cricket on a Saturday afternoon in the middle of May, for fuck sake.
And that when we smiled lovingly at each other I could feel the wrinkles spread across my face like Hell's ivy.
And that I was still wearing a pinnie.
And that I looked a bit like a gir......Mrs Doubtfire.
And that, once again, I realised old age was speeding toward me like a bullet.
Christ...
....what's the point?
....what's the bleedin' point?

Is that it? Was that my life?
Scone, mate.