Sunday, May 21, 2017. Daily Brit Wit.
Bad tempered, irritable, rude, touchy.
“When I enter the house fifteen minutes after my shift ended, I am perplexed to note the kitchen is darkened. Typically, because our current schedules don’t co-align, the house is lit up. My fiancé is a terrible, lazy git when it comes to responsibly leaving home. Immediately, I wonder if he’s been kidnapped, killed, or ill, and not necessarily in that particular order. If he’s the latter, then I’m not emotionally stable to handle his tetchy behavior.
So I head upstairs unarmed and knackered, resigned to the fact whatever scene I uncover upon entering the master suite there’s a seventy-eight percent chance I won’t be falling right into the arms of Morpheus.”