Freddie or Nicole?

I always maintain that "inside I'm Nicole Kidman" - you know, all winsome and petite (in a willowy way) with fine, porcelain features, a smattering of girlish freckles (I do have the freckles actually) and the cascading curls - oh, but with the good sense to have held onto the Cruise for a while longer (yum). But after today I'm starting to wonder if I haven't got more than a little Freddie Murcury inside me. Absolutely no turning-homosexual puns intended (if there could be any made of course).
Because after today, and following the fact that I've been on a two-week break for Easter, I have arrived at the following conclusion:
"I want to break Free" because:
a. I hate 6.30 alarms.
b. I hate annoying, chirpy DJ's at above time.
c. I hate having to wear something other than jeans and yesterday's stained t-shirt.
d. I hate having to drive an hour someplace I'm only going to be at for 4 hours and then
e. have to drive home again (that's like a 6 hour day for part-time pay!)
f. I dislike (can't say hate because I survived) having to make small-talk abut how great was your break?
g. I hate knowing that during my 6 hours of oppression I could be adding a further, say, 2thou words to my latest book and
h. Could be a lot closer to having the thing ready to be sent Out There...
Then again
I didn't get hurt, I did have a laugh, I did something for the community (school-related of course) and I didn't sit about in my jammies reading the latest Emily Giffin for three hours whilst thinking about having a shower and preparing some leisurely brekkies... at least my arse was shifted...aha, I knew I was on the payroll for a reason!