I’m surrounded by agitated people.  I don’t mean to overhear the conversations but something about the volume of the voices and the fact that I can understand the language makes it hard for me not to hear them.

The people look miserable.  It doesn’t seem to matter if they are passengers or airport staff.  Everyone looks like they wish they were somewhere else.  I’ve just glanced up from my computer and the guy working in WHSmith is scowling  at me.  It’s probably just the look he constantly has on his face working here.  I’ve no idea what sort of look I have on my face and thankfully there are no mirrors about to show me.