Maybe it was the Arsenal playing shite and losing 1-0 to a one-trick Everton.
Maybe it was my father rubbing my nose in it again, despite knowing next to nothing about football, despite losing another 5 or so kilogrammes after his latest operation, despite the fact that he has little to no time left to salvage a proper relationship with his children.
Maybe it was a highly-vexing letter from the organisation-who-will-not-be-named.
Maybe it’s being reminded of my decrepit, disobedient, deceitful self, each time the mirror that is the word of God is lifted up before my face.
Maybe i’m just feeling incredibly selfish and can’t help ranting some way, any way.
…But it sure feels like a lousy day.
