Lost. Again.

I'd say that I am, for the most part, a man who is at peace with his failings. And yet for some reason I cannot accept that I have a rubbish sense of direction. 

Oddly, I can accept that I have a propensity for getting lost and that is why I carefully studied the route between the new house in Salford and Hannah's place in Ancoats before I set off, today, to go for a run with her. 

And I did pretty well for the first couple of miles but just as I reached the point of stopping to check Maps on my phone, Hannah rang me: "I think you're running away from me" she said, in a tone that suggested she didn't want to cause any offence. 

But even then, having re-routed myself, after half a mile or so, I spotted what appeared to be an attractive shortcut. My confidence slightly dented, I stopped to check Maps again. It was completely the wrong direction!

Anyway, eventually I did get to Hannah and we had a lovely run together. And I didn't get lost on the way home!

****
No scales
Reading: 'The Vanishing Half' by Brit Bennett