Yesterday, I lunched with the schoolgate mums. One is a soprano and the other a plumber. Though the plumber is returning to IT. There was an ant in the salt and bits of clingfilm on my steak. The waitress noted both aberrations and shrugged. This morning I went to Waitrose. The last time I was there, I bumped a middle-aged man as he struggled a whining toddler into a trolley seat. Apologising, I helped him get her sorted. Meanwhile, a slightly larger child was kicking at his legs. "Have a good day," I said. He snarled. You could hear those kids whining all around the store. It was like living the Doppler effect. Daddy of course, was unfazed. I suppose, as the Mayor of London, he deals with far worse shit every day;-) But I digress. Today in the store, the service was surly beyond belief. And it was only half past eight! The cashier threw down my grapes. I could have sold them as Blue Nun nouveau. What's wrong with everybody? Every summer as we head for silly season, urban tensions increase. So much to do, so little time... Over puddings yesterday, we were discussing our own anxieties. The soprano's work is seasonal. The plumber gets more callouts for websites than toilets. And me - well, you know where I am in all this... Roll on August when a baffle board of calm falls on the great metropolis:-)