Another list, inspired by impatience.

Life is short. We don't have time to be grumpy. That's what I try to remember when I'm having a bad day or I'm faced with a difficult or tedious situation. When it just gets so terrible that others would throw in the towel, unable to muster up some enthusiasm to go on. At least two people gave up on the tough task I had today. Several muttered grumbles under their breath. It was an ordeal. But that's life in the Post Office queue.

Though we pride ourselves in our talent for queueing, us Brits do like a good grumble when we're in one. But why? It's only ten or fifteen minutes of our time. Sometimes even less! The Post Office line is the worst for keeping up cheery customers. So to combat this attitude, I've come up with ten things, listed in low to high priority, that you could be doing whilst in the seemingly endless torture of the humble Post Office queue:


10. Your taxes.
If it feels like an age stood there, why not get a pen out and sort your finances out? Why wait until you actually have free time? It might even encourage you to send more things to relatives. The time you spend in queues will add up, right?

9. Tidy up a bit.
Other queuees(?) will have picked up leaflets for pension schemes they're never going to use and international postage they're probably not bothered about. Help out the business by putting these back rather than tutting at the mess others are creating. A tidy space is a tidy mind.

8. Listen to an audiobook.
You could get a whole chapter finished. If you hate the gloom of the Post Office queue, surrounded by imminent death and impatient people, teleport to a new world with Stephen Fry's voice for company. I suggest Narnia or Harry Potter.

7. Count the ceiling tiles.
An old exam technique, revert to childhood by counting and recounting the ceiling tiles. Then noticing which ones are different colours and counting them. You'll love it.

6. Count how many people Taylor Swift has written songs about then alphabetise that list. Then re-order it in terms of age, if you have time.
That girl's been around.

5. Conga.
You're already in a line, it only takes a catchy tune and some willing partiers. This one comes with a scowl warning.

4. Learn how to say the alphabet backwards and speed it up.
And stick it on your CV.

3. Chinese whispers.
Another advantage of the automatic line. Who knows what "Buy me two red roses on a Saturday and deliver them in the afternoon" will end up as?

2. Write a list of 10 things you could do in the Post Office queue.
...that's what I did. Jump on the bandwagon and add a theme: ten things you could do in ten minutes; ten things you really shouldn't do; ten people you'd love to be in the queue with...

1. Be patient and remember the little things in life that make you happy.
Seriously, it could be worse. Donate some money to charity on your phone while you're waiting, for extra karma points.

Rule Britannia: 1, don't be a dick.

How patriotic should we be? Jubilee fever has hushed to less than a murmur, our beloved Olympians aren't nearly getting as much attention as they were in 2012 and the Royals are finally having some privacy. This lull has made us wander out and take up world-watching. Suddenly Obama's second term is interesting and global movements are more appealing to follow. But that's fine, it gives us a chance to ignore the 'mare that's replacing the year-long stream of good home news.

I recently got asked how patriotic we should be and where the line is drawn. The murky, overcast area, I reckon, is occupied by those who know the extra verses of God Save as far as the bits about Scotland, who have a collection of hand-held Union Flags just in case, who deny the importance of multi-culturalism but never challenge it due to a stiff upper-lip and refuse to consume anything other than cucumber sandwiches, tea and a Sunday roast. Ticking these boxes should be avoided in order to actually learn something about the world. 

Shouting obscenities during a tight international game/race/match in which we genuinely have a chance is okay, as long as we're gracious with the end result: there are things to be learnt in losing as well as winning. Being British is all about positive, inclusive progress. The equal marriage bill, equal rights for all, accessible education and rich legacies are what make our island great. The Empire was all well and good until we started enforcing our culture in places that just didn't fit. If my degree taught me anything, it's that identity is incredibly important but also as flexible as Beth Tweddle.

So perhaps it's good that we're having a bit of a breather from a very introspective year. We've shown the world we can put on a good show and waves flags for hours whilst singing Hey Jude. Let's find out what's going on across the pond and next door. At least until Eurovision.

Thank economics for holidays.

I've been hit by the fluffy, sparkly arrow of Cupid. Sorry, world. All week I've been looking forward to today because I knew I was receiving flowers from my 300-mile-away boyfriend. (Yes, I know, surprise spoiled - but that just changes the situation to anticipation and excitement rather than worry that nothing will come). The flowers came (a dozen roses - yeah, I feel loved) with a beautifully rude card one would expect still in the hideously incredible honeymoon phase. Am I making you feel sick yet? Though I can't be with him today to give him a squidgy hug and show him how special he's made me feel, I can do something with this warm and fuzzy feeling: I've decided to give back to my housemates.

Living with a couple is not easy, especially when you're in a long-distance relationship. Rather than grumble that they're in the fortunate position to be with each other whenever they like, I'm embracing it. I've cleaned the kitchen, sorted the recycling, tidied the hallway, loaded the dishwasher, cleaned the living room and set up a little romance. What I'd love to do is cook them a romantic dinner with an oozey chocolatey pudding and a bottle of wine. Unfortunately, I have no money to do that. Instead, they came home to this:

Whilst the cynics can happily (or grumpily) load Valentines Day off as a corporate holiday invented by card companies to make money between Christmas and Easter, I quite like it. You can really make it a good excuse to non-awkwardly show friends that they mean something and are appreciated. Of course, there's no reason we should limit this show of affection to February 14th but if you're the kind of person who finds it difficult to express feelings, today is a good shield.

A couple of days ago I was a bit grumbly because I hadn't eaten anything before work and was destined for a late finish. To cheer me up, one of the managers set up a plate with jaffa cakes, sweets and orange slices with an innocent smoothie. It was a small gesture that helped a vast amount. Little things like this should happen everywhere. You might embrace the good deed culture already and you will certainly have been the recipient, whether you know it or not. We're in lent now, so many of you might have given up chocolate, sweets or, like a genius once suggested, skateboarding and celery. How about taking up good deeds? One good deed a day is an excellent aim. Sometimes not possible, a more realistic goal would be three good deeds a week.

Holidays are a brilliant excuse to be wonderful to others and yourself. Send a card for Christmas. Give a hug for New Year. Say thankyou for Valentines. Clean the house for Spring. Cook dinner for Sunday. Make a cup of tea for, you know, 11.14am. Just because. May you all feel fluffy and squidgy today. And if you don't, at least hold someone's hair back while they're sick due to chocolate overconsumption.