Last night, fate appeared to be totally against me getting home at a reasonable time. I got to MH station only to find 100s of people milling about outside like very dumb sheep because there were no trains running towards London. At this point I had 2 choices - either get a ticket and go via Reading (which is expensive) or cycle...so I decided to cycle.
Replacing the rickety wooden Thames bridge with the one along side the M4 actually works out a lot better. I think it's a slightly longer route, but despite the extra half mile or so, I still did it in better time than I normally do. Managed it in under 52 minutes. w00t! Go me!
When I got to Windsor, I'd just missed the normal train I'd get and the next one was canceled. So I was just about to cycle the other 5.5 miles home, cos I felt I could just about manage it, when I noticed the weather. It'd been fairly windy so far, but by now the clouds were dark and menacing, so I expected it to start raining. Of course it doesn't though and in fact by the time I get home it's bright and sunny again. Pah. Still - at least I do get home, even if it is 45minutes later than usual.
Nothing in particular happened at the pub beyond what normally happens. Except that the now weekly pep-talk with Wrong Adrian didn't happen cos he was replaced by someone else this week. So I didn't feel the need to get mopey about my crap love life.
Can't get to work today cos of the same train problems as yesterday. There's no way I can be arsed to cycle in - it's a friday, I'm knackered and it's bloody hot outside. It turns out that the train problems are caused by a fire at Burnham, which is horribly ironic. Of course being stuck at home means that so far I've not bothered to get dressed...and I don't have any milk in, so no breakfast is likely...and I'm starving. Damn. I guess I shall have to get dressed and go shopping before I implode.