Just back from my holiday in California and I’m sulking in my being-home-is-turd bubble. The bubble that just pisses everyone else off and makes you look bloody ungrateful for your holiday. Which I’m not – my trip was awesome and I’ll probably never get one like it again (waaaaaaaail). Because this holiday was one I took WITHOUT my kids. They went to my (amazing, kind and wonderful) parents, whilst me and George guiltily (guiltily until my second gin at the airport. Then WAHOOO kicked in) flew off to LA for a road trip to San Fransisco.