Flat Friday

There's nothing quite a Friday morning being spoiled than driving to work and getting a puncture en route. This is the second time it's happened to me on a Friday which isn't so much strange as incredibly annoying. This time it happened not far from home, so I pulled in to the side, abandoned the car and hopped on a bus. Such is my commitment to work that it didn't cross my mind to get it all dealt with there and then. Madness.

Being a delicate flower with no knowledge of one end of a jack from the other I had no option other than to call the RAC this afternoon, only to be told that waiting time would be 150 minutes. I think the man on the end of the phone thought sitting in a cold car for 150 minutes sounded better than two and a half hours. The air was blue by the time I got off the phone. Madness again.

Anyway, things moved along more pleasantly with a great evening at another blipper's favourite restaurant. Try it - it's great.

We then went on to Spoon, and I managed a quick blip of Surgeon's Hall, which unusually made me feel quite small.