Sat with her suitcase in her kitchen, our heroine anxiously waits for the taxi to take her to the airport.
Breathlessly she says something like
"what time is my flight?....
........around half past five?"
"and what time is it now?"
she looks at her watch all stressed and sweaty
"......a quarter past eleven"
Curtains fall to great applause.
I have similar sensibilities. I cannot be late for anything.
It's a control thing.
But I am not as bad as Shirley Valentine.......well....... just yet!
It's 8.30am
The Cottage is all spick and span
The animals are all fed and watered
My clothes for the day are all ironed
and my bag is all packed
My train goes to Sheffield at noon!
Hey Ho
x