Three harrassed mums - I am one of them - drop their gaggle of kids off at creche.
It's already too hot: the day has barely begun, and we're already tired. And hot (did I mention that it's hot? It's hot).
It doesn't seem physically possible, and yet, we are managing to be both lethargic AND rushed at the same time.
We know we're running late for work. We exchange a couple of quips about how we're always pitching up to our respective jobs late.
We exchange wry reflections on the bizarre atmosphere in offices, pre-July 14th. The emptiness, the disconcerting feeling that you've absent-mindedly wandered into work on a Sunday.
The inability to concentrate on anything other than holiday plans.
The pardox of tomorrow's public holiday (a break from work: a full day entertaining overheated kids).
Three mums laugh and empathise, leaning against the car bonnet.
They will now be much later for work than is reasonable.
But their day will be so much brighter.
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