The mistral starts and I am not happy

Spent much of the morning making the final decisions on accommodation for our trip to Portugal – then creating a file for Mrs. Ottawacker to print off, so she can have everything to hand and not panic as we are arriving at Marvao or Coimbra or Lagos and have no idea where we are going to sleep for the night (which is how I usually travel). The, out of the blue, she says she doesn’t need it and can’t print it off for work: so, I have spent a week making sure I have all the information to hand for her for no reason.
 
Ottawacker Jr. had his xBox time rudely interrupted by Tui, who was happily shoving her arse into his face while he was trying to improve Trent Alexander Arnold’s free kicks. Neither TA nor Ottawacker Jr. seemed to mind much.
 
Late p.m. my ears became blocked up and I walked around the house for several hours saying things like “What was that?” or “Can’t hear you” or “This is a nightmare, what?” By the time I went to bed, they were slightly better, but tinnitus had installed itself. It felt like I had a mistral in my head.