Rush, write, relax.

The proverbial faecal matter hit the fan this morning.

It would seem that buses near me don’t run on a Sunday. Therefore I cannot get to Doncaster train station by bus. No Doncaster station = no train to Newark. No train to Newark = No mini-bus to Stanstead. No Stanstead = No Berlin = Untimely and gruesome death.

So this is karma well and truly bending me over and kicking me with its size 11 steel toe-cap boots firmly up the arse. I tried to be slightly spontaneous recently. That will not do!

Thankfully when I panic I think of lots of situations/possibilities. So an hour later I’m now getting a lift (which I’m paying for in Euros) to Retford train station and then I’m getting a direct service to Newark. Thankfully it won’t cost me as much. Not so thankfully it’ll mean I’m in Newark 2 hours early and without starbucks. Oh the sacrifices we make. So, should you bump into me today in Retford or Newark before 2pm allow me to give a word (or three) of advice. DO NOT APPROACH! lol, I’m all flustered now so methinks a bit of alone + ipod time is required. Thankfully I love travelling, more so at times than actual holidays, so I’m not too worried about all of this. Now I know I can actually get there I’m fine. I even considered taking my mum’s car, well for part of the journey.

Anyhoo, I need to go soon and I think a cup of tea is in order before-hand.

I feel much calmer now than when I started writing, oh the wonders of blogging, lol.

Bis bald x