This, dear readers, is Platform 5 at Shipley railway station where I catch my connection to Keighley every weekday morning. And I did just that today - at the second attempt.
First time around, I climbed aboard after being vigorously waved on by an enthusiastic lady conductor. Sadly, what I assumed was the 0849 train to Skipton turned out to be the delayed 08somethingelse to Bradford. So I was forced to get off at the next stop and walk back to Shipley. (It was quicker than waiting for the next one not to turn up).
My mood was not greatly improved when I tripped over an uneven kerbstone as the station returned to view and landed horizontally.
As luck would have it, I picked a particularly inopportune time to go pavement diving as I currently appear to have one or more nerves trapped within my person, leaving me with a shooting pains in my left shoulder, a dull ache in my right leg and a sore arse.
This morning's minor disappointments came off the back of last night's sense of mild irritation when I discovered I'd lost my cash card for the second Wednesday out of three. I hadn't mislaid one/had one nicked for several years and suspect I may have left it in the self-service section in Morrisons. Twice. I suppose these things are to be expected when you hit your forties.
Still, I hope the last 24 hours have served your personal goals better than they have mine.
Plus the sun is shining (even in Yorkshire), the beers in the fridge are cold and there's a whole bank holiday weekend packed with further frustrations yet to come.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
