To the Royal Mail . . . why did you run away so fast after pressing the doorbell the other day to supposedly deliver some stuff? Despite the fact that my ill-in-bed flatmate struggled to the door and shouted "Hello? I'm here!!!" after your retreating footsteps? Did you actually HAVE said deliveries WITH you??? Or was it all just a big con to make me have to wake up early ON A SATURDAY to go to the delivery office???
To the Royal Mail Delivery office . . . first of all, you need a bigger waiting area for people collecting their shit. Seriously, it is waaaayyy too cramped, and there were so many people waiting! Plus, I know this bit isn't really YOUR fault (it's the bastard postman who didn't deliver the stuff to my flat in the first place) but did you HAVE to have so many packages for me? Not only could I not fit them all in the plastic bag I'd brought along for the exact purpose, two of them were so awkwardly shaped that I virtually had to juggle them along with the bag on the walk back home. PLUS I had too much stuff to go to the supermarket en route for food shopping as originally planned. Thanks for that.
To my keyring . . . why did you somehow manage to LOSE one of my keys. (I DID find it, by the way, it was on my bed in the end). I ended up getting a lecture from my flatmate for drinking too much and taking the last subway home rather than a taxi - but if I hadn't phoned her crying, begging her to let me in, I may have . :( I've learned my lesson though.
To all rose wine . . . why are you so good and yet so bad??? (and why after drinking you did I think it made sense to steal a whole bottle of mayonnaise from a pub?)
To the universe . . . why the constant fucking with my life? Just wondering.
To Rhodes . . . I'm looking forward to seeing you next year . . . :)