Brrr and Grrr

It is quite fresh out here in England at the moment.  Today London, compared to the rest of the country, was a balmy 1 degree (Celcius) and by the time I had walked to the Lovely Therapist's office this evening I couldn't feel my feet.  It's cold for the time of year and it's cold for central London.  It is no kind of weather to be standing still outdoors.

I am labouring this point of how freaking cold it is so that I can share this story.  I got to the Georgian building which houses, among others, the Lovely Therapist's office and standing outside were a couple with a pair of not more than 2-month old twins.  Mum and Dad each had a baby in one of those B@byBjorn carriers and they were leaning against the railings chatting while Dad finished off a cigarette.  He threw away the stub just as I got to the steps and Mum pushed past me to get inside saying "got to get these mites in the warm".

I hated them both so much.

Anyway.  Today is World AIDS Day. 

knee-jerk

Back in the dim and distant past, before miscarriage and loss overwhelmed me, I was considered by all who knew me to be a "tree-hugging leftie".  By that they meant that even my worst enemy could not call me judgemental.

Not so much now, although thankfully still only to myself.  And you, dear interwebs.

Yesterday, on my journey to the dentist, I saw this young girl, couldn't have been more than twenty years old, pushing a pram with a maybe 2-year-old in it.  The young girl was also visibly pregnant, and smoking a cigarette.  Walking with his arm around her was her, I presume, partner who was smoking what I know was NOT a cigarette.  I swear my anger and hatred and judgementalness (what? It's a word) was coming off me in toxic waves.

Eighteen hours later I think that it still is.