1) People ringing me up at work on press day to tell me how their day is going. I do care, I DO. But I WORK. Send me an email, or call me after 6pm. Is that too much to ask? I WORK
2) Mum insisting on having a text conversation with me WHILE I AM AT WORK. I AM AT WORK. I cannot text or spell correctly when bashing out texts at speed on my BlackBerry Torch (TM)
3) People ringing me up at work on press day to ask me for directions to my mum's house.... WHEN THEY HAVE BEEN THERE FOUR TIMES BEFORE. I am NOT STREETMAP.com. Last time I looked, I was not a search engine, a map, a cartographer, a policeman, a community support officer, a local cabbie or the freaking A-Z. I WORK.
4) Being asked to buy London 2012 Olympic Tickets - not for someone to GO to the olympics, no, no, I have to spend my overdraft for a ticket FOR POSTERITY...
I WORK, people, I WORK. Do you understand the concept of full-time employment?
I also freelance in what passes for SPARE TIME. This means I work at home, too.
When I say I am busy, I am not saying 'I am busy filing the hard corny bits on my feet for a few hours so I cannot talk to you/come for a coffee/have a sleepover at yours despite being a fricking adult whose idea of a sleepover does not consist of staying on the mattress in the spare room of a newly married couple.'
Even if I WERE shaving the corny bits off my feet, I should have the freaking right to do so without being made to feel guilty for not pandering to your ridiculous requests.
So the next person who rings me to whinge or ask a bleeding ridiculous question that even an 11-year old would be ashamed to ask, I will collect my foot shavings, stick them in a freaking home-made cupcake and watch you freaking eat it.