Ever notice how annoyance comes at you in stages? It's never immediate, always creeping around the edges, waiting for the right moment to strike with an air of clandestine intrigue. Maybe it's like standing alone by the vast seafront at midnight, where you're neither here nor there, just caught somewhere in between.
Meanwhile, the homework whispers its tales of unfinished dreams: artichokes really have no business being in burritos, yet they solemnly reside on Kensington's most sought-out corner menu.