Friday 2nd June 2017

Sleep, it turns out, is not over-rated. However, a lack of it can make even the most apparently efficient person make mistakes. With me it turned out to be a disaster.

I forgot the laptop power lead on Tuesday, and this was not a serious problem on Tuesday and Wednesday when I could use one of the stations in the office, but on Thursday everyone else had a power lead with a different ending to mine, so I could not charge it up, and then I needed to charge the phone up, with no plug to do that, and no USB sockets in the room, I remembered maybe the car might have one, so I could charge the phone on the way to the airport.

The alarm went off at half five, half four UK time, and when I looked at my reflection in the bathroom, it was someone with red eyes. I did look as bad as I felt, not sure if that is a good thing or not.

In the lobby, after packing and dressing, there was no coffee on offer, so I check out. After trouble getting out of the car park on the 3rd day of my last two visits, should I ask for a pass for the machine just in case; no, it'll be OK I thought. Shows what I know.

I go down into the parking garage, find the car, load it up, then drive to the exit, down two more levels, drive the barrier and it won't let me out. I told myself what I thought of me. And I agreed. I reversed up and tried to get back up to the top level, but there was nothing doing. I would have to park up and walk up three flights of stairs, then come back down, or just let the company pay. I took the easy option, but then the machine failed to give me a receipt, something else I would have to explain to the finance dept.

I come out in yet another different part of the city, this is just crazy. But I know if I go to the main road I would find my way, or so I hoped. Over the railway and I found I was back on track, and it was then I had the second mishap of the day: re,member I told you about the different sets of traffic lights for cars and cycles? Well, I am sure that the lights for straight on and cycles were red, another set went green, but then I passed another set on red. I have no idea.

I drove on.

I had plugged the phone in, and it was charging; how clever I felt even though I was tired.

Along the roads, up the banks facing south there were hordes of wild Lupins and other dark red plants, which could have been Red Campion, as I also saw white Bladder Campion. A lovely sight for my tired, red eyes.

I arrive at the airport just after seven, I pull up at the drop off depot, unplug the phone, carefully pack the lead away, pack the IT tidy pack away, get my case and workbag out of the boot, lock the car and walk to the terminal, dropping the keys in the letter box as it is not manned until after eight. I had timed it perfectly, there was no queue at security, I told myself how clever I had been in arriving just after seven.

I was on my way up the escalator to the departure hall when I patted my jeans pocket for my phone; it was sitting on the dash of the hire car. Bugger buggerations, I thought. Nothing I could do, even if I went back, no one would be at the office until eight, and by that time I should be boarding the plane. I would have to write them a mail. Maybe they could send it back to me at home. I hope.

I go to the lounge, am allowed in as I have the card of power, I get a roll, some cheese and a coffee. Somehow the oversize spoon in the coffee messed with the plate and before I knew it the coffee was spilling out of the cup, down my legs and onto the floor. Great.

I am cast a withering look by the smart dressed lady who is going to have to clean it up, I offer but she waves me away. I get another coffee and go to a table to eat and try to dry off.

I have half an hour to wait, I have the roll, and follow it with a Danish. Well, I'm in Denmark I spose. I go to the gate, and join the other twenty waiting for the time to board. I am drying off at least, and no need to worry whether I had switched my phone off as its in the bloody hire car, if I looked to my left when we walked to the bus, I could almost see it.

Not much report about the flight, we take off, and I get a glimpse of the fields below in full spring colour, that certain shade of healthy green which shows new life and growth. Soon we have turned and continued to climb, through clouds and Denmark is lost from sight.

I accept 2nd breakfast, and am careful with the coffee this time. I read a magazine, and manage to finish it as we drop from cruising altitude, dropping lower so I could see the London Array, not one turbine was turning, odd to see every turbine out of service, but then as we cross over the farm, turbines on the southern side just began to turn, due to the very light winds. It looked a fine day down there, but there was to be no flight over the City this time, just the standard approach from the east, over the Dartford Crossing, a Javelin racing down HS1, along the river and touchdown.

We have to wait for groundcrew to stretch string from the door to the crossing over the road, just in case we stray and walk into a plane wing or something. The time we wait meant I missed the earlier train home, but I was resigned to that anyway, so did not stress about it.

Then there was the wait for the bags, not that there usually is, but on this occasion there was, thus meaning there was a coffee and a white chocolate cookie with my name on at Stratford.

I get the DLR back, arriving at five to ten, a 50 minute wait, and so can get the coffee and cookie and get back to the David Hepworth book. I enjoy it so much, I read it on the train instead of looking out of the windows! In this way the journey flies, and I am nearly disappointed when we arrive in Dover with me one short chapter from finishing the book.

As I did not have a phone, I would have to wait at the rank, but this being holiday week, and the sun shining, there were no taxis, and so the wait took 15 minutes until each one of us got into our cab for the drive to our destinations. We go up Jubilee Way, both of us have the windows wide pen, and the warm air rushes in. It is wonderful.

He drops me off, I shuffle down the drive dragging my case and Scully appears: meow?

Meow indeed, my little tiddler. I give her some food once inside, make a brew, have some fruit and three vanilla sandwich biscuits. I can feel I have a migraine coming, so I sit in the living room for a couple of hours, maybe closing my eyes from time to time, but I am pooped. Pooped to the max.

Jools comes home at four, and reminds me we have a family BBQ to attend, as its Bradey's 21st birthday. It was the last thing I felt like to do, but you know, family. Blah.

Only, his present had yet to be delivered. It was out for delivery, but it was nearly 5, how late would it be? Half five it turned out, a Polish guy came round the back of the house shouting that he had something. Panic over.

So at six we go out, drive to Whitfield, and the bbq is in full swing, we time it right as food is served, and I am fairly sociable, but after an hour, I want to go home. So we do. Wishing Bradey a good and quiet night as he joined the ranks of the sensible. Yeah, right.

Home to The Don and Gardener's World, then bed at nine, falling asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.