My flight to Dublin was cancelled. I was supposed to do a job interview. I had booked a hotel room so my family wouldn’t know I was coming back (which I paid for IN ADVANCE). I booked a day off work for it, which I will still have to take.

The interview was originally supposed to take place in London, three weeks ago, but was cancelled because of the Beast. All the trains out of Gatwick were cancelled, the airline offered to reimburse us for hotel rooms and then told us all the hotel rooms were booked, and now I’m stuck on a two hour bus back to London.

I had such a nice evening planned! I was going to go for dinner, check into my hotel, have a bath, do a face mask, get properly relaxed and ready for any questions they might throw at me. (Also it would make up for having to leave home at three pm and losing my Sunday afternoon).

And I can’t rant about it on twitter, because both my parents follow me on there, and if they get the slightest hint that I’m considering moving home the sheer excitement might give one or both of them a stroke.

I hate everything. But especially snow.