Stupid O'Clock

L gets up at stupid o'clock to get the 6.28 train down to London, Harley Street no less. The train was a mere snip at £131. You could have booked multiple flights around Europe on a no-frills airline for that sort of money.

The dogs escort her to the door but don't seem too bothered about going out for a walk, well at least not until its light and come back to bed. I can’t afford to be up much later though, as I'm the one on duty with them and if I want to bike into work, I’ll need to get a move on.

L texts to remind me that she always gives the dogs two biscuits after their morning walk. So I give them two biscuits as requested, one each. I’m trying to keep Doggo in trim for next weekend’s Crufts qualifier but I assume that’s what she meant anyway.

I enjoy a blustery cycle in and play a bit of ‘after you’ poker with a driver emerging from a side street. I prefer to let cars in wherever possible, as I like these four wheeled things in front of me where I can see what they’re up to, rather than them skulking behind like a petulant teenager.

In the end he forces me to go on ahead and then reaches the lights just as they turn to red. He pulls up at the cyclist's stop line, naturally. I pull up behind him at the car stop line, so I have to move forward when he winds his window down to whinge at me for making him miss the lights. I correct him, pointing out that if he hadn’t been so indecisive we’d have both made it. As he comes to a standstill in the next queue, I overtake him and give him a cheery wave as I pass. I'm sure I can feel his icy glare on my back.

Later, on my home, I see in the distance what appears to be a young mother holding her son’s hand and helping him across the road on his BMX bike. Bless. When I get closer I can see that they’re both actually teenagers of around the same age. His diddy bike though makes him seem half her height. Well it amused me.

No squash tonight, my opponent’s (sometimes) beloved Leeds United are in action in the League Cup against the mighty Liverpool... reserves. I’m only jealous. Cup matches... oh yes I remember them, very vaguely.