Train delays and sick people.
So, after an absolutely wonderful long weekend boogieing with Humph & Mary…
A time spent in mighty & splendid company, it was time to go home.
The train was only 7 min late.
But, as is the way with the British rail system (abomonation) by the time it arrived at Peterborough it was 13 min late.
Oh deep fucking joy.
Yes, because my connection left 4 min before that.
But, that’s ok because I had fuck all else to do than sit in a waiting room for 57 min, listening to some loud twat talking on his phone.
Could it get any worse you ask.
Why yes it can…
Apparently everyone at home is too tired and poorly to give me a lift.
No problem, because I would love to stand in a cue and pay £25 to get a taxi.
What of tomorrow.
Will anyone want me to do anything?
Will they be talking to the hand? ✋
Indeed they will.
And what of Tuesday, when I need to get to hospital for 7.00 am for the lump removal operation (if my blood pressure is not too high still.. It was last week, and this is really helping)
Yes… I can drive myself in, leave the car & walk the last 2 miles..?
I expect so… That was the last information I was given…
Hopefully, if I don’t die under the anaesthetic, I will be allowed home at some point. Fingers X it doesn’t clash with other plans… But, there’s always a taxi.
Of course I’m not a bit pissed off.
Happy as ****ing Larry me. 😠😕😯