Over the weekend I enjoyed dipping in and out of Glastonbury.

Obviously, I wasn’t there , but I appreciate the atmosphere as much as anyone could wrapped in a blanket on their own sofa who keeps sending random members of the family into the kitchen for more alcohol.

I like the idea of a festival, but in reality I could never tolerate a wet-wipe wash and would worry endlessly about how I looked from behind wearing my old denim cut-offs from the early 1990s.

So I stay at home and watch, like everyone else who wishes they were waving their hands in the air to Barry Gibb but who are too skint, exhausted or concerned about having greasy hair for three days on the trot to actually go.

Fuelled with wine and nibbles, I was feeling in rather a good mood until I could feel my blood starting to boil.

The cause? Women sitting on other people’s shoulders during a concert. Sigh. The more I watched, the more annoyed I became.

I am fully aware it was irrational: after all they aren’t harming anyone, but just sometimes things get under my skin. All I could imagine was being behind those women blocking my view.

And I will also tell you what was annoying me for absolutely no reason: women over the age of 40 with sparkly face paint, and middle-aged men in decorated hats and slogan T-shirts.

Watching them in the crowd was making my eyes bleed and spoiling my enjoyment of Chic and Nile Rodgers.

“I’ll be honest,’’ said my eldest son. “There are times you are really unpleasant. How can you be offended by people having a good time?”

“Easy,” I said. “What sort of grown-up woman has glittery butterflies on her cheeks?”

“You are really easily riled,’’ he said, full of youthful optimism in his Jeremy Corbyn T-shirt. “That’s not attractive in a woman your age.”

I couldn’t really disagree because, while I do feel I let a lot of things go, many things do irrationally push my buttons.

These include men who strut; the actor Will Smith; wedding fascinators; people clapping along to songs; pink carnations and yellow chrysanthemums; weak cocktails; and any British TV awards.

However, I can be equally truly delighted by the small things, several of which I did see at Glastonbury.

These include men with glossy long hair; random people of all shapes and sizes enthusiastically dancing, and listening to music as the sun goes down.

To appreciate life I do think you have to have a clear understanding of what you really like and dislike, and stick to your guns.

The more someone tells me “Oh, I know you will really enjoy this” the more I dislike it, for absolutely no reason.

This includes Poldark , prosecco, and anything with a Fifty Shades of Grey theme.

I am aware that this, at times, makes me a social pariah. But it is the price you pay for knowing your own mind. It’s a fair deal.