I'm trying really hard to not think about how I lost 7 hours of my life to traffic queues last night. Trying to go from Farnborough to Maidenhead. A journey that normally takes 40 minutes.
There's nothing normal about it taking 7 hours instead.
When I finally parked outside my friends house, I couldn't believe I was actually at my destination. Or that I was going to be able to step out of my car that had felt more like an enclosed space than a freedom giver for the past 3 hours.
Shattered is not the right word. Not knackered either. But try apathy, tiredness, hunger and no will to live.
I am amazed though that Lexxie didn't give up on me. Even though she had a at times paranoid owner that wondered if the engine was on fire or if it was just the bonnet being way too hot?
If I was of the praying type I would be praying my ass off for it to not happen again tomorrow.
Now. Food. And red wine. The things I didn't have yesterday
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