Thank you to the greedy bastards who cloned my credit card this week and then stole thousands of pounds from it. I am very grateful for your thoughtfulness and generosity in your deeds and am not at all annoyed by the fact that this now leaves me without my credit card when I go on holiday in a few days.
Thank you to the post-man who decided it would be easier not to ring my doorbell with my signed-for package yesterday and instead, take it back to the depot. I was not frustrated by the fact that I was waiting in at the time the package should have been delivered and I was not at all upset by my twenty unsuccessful attempts to call my local sorting office to try to organise a redelivery. So today, it was not at all aggravating to have to provide my interview with the Guardian newspaper, to prove my 'Abby Lee' identity, without which, I could not retrieve said package from the sorting office. And it wasn't in the slightest bit embarrassing that the postal clerk laughed at me and said, "Bestselling sexblogger, 'eh?!", as he read the newspaper headline and handed over my package (of sex toys).
Thank you, finally, to my hormones, for ensuring that I am in possibly the foulest mood I have ever been in. I really am enjoying being filled with spite, fury and frustration; it is fantastic for a glass-half-full optimist like me. Also, I am hugely grateful that whilst I am sunning myself in a bikini on Monday, I will also be bleeding heavily at the same time. Women everywhere will agree with me how much happiness the adventure of having to change a tampon whilst sat on a sandy beach provides; I honestly cannot think of anything more enjoyable.
Actually, possibly the most fun you can have on a beach is attempting to give a guy a blow-job on a windy day and then having sand and sea-water sprayed all over your face and into your mouth at the same time. That really is my idea of a pleasurable afternoon.