The past two weeks have been a total disaster. I’ve been late for meetings, missed deadlines, and neglected to return phone calls and emails. Last week, I intended to arrive early for a meeting in central London, but I went the wrong way around the Circle line (not the first time, definitely not the last). As a result, I arrived an hour late, working a “look” that can only be described as “discombobulated middle-aged woman gets into a fight with a scarecrow and loses”. Losing every single battle I face in life, no matter how small, can only be down to one thing: hormones.
I say “hormones”, because it’s not just my hormones I’m having to deal with; it’s the entire household’s. Let’s start with the least troublesome member, AKA the dog, and work our way up from there, shall we? Poppy the cavapoo, who ought to be renamed Poppy The Angel Dog Sent From Heaven To Be My Soulmate, goes hog-wild when in heat.
