I’m not going to get into a rut, writing about work when I’m here, in my own space, my own castle and far away from that daily grind (otherwise known as chosen career path). But I have to make comment about tonights’ return journey. You know – when you need to see your own front door (or, in my case, as we use the back door, when I need to see the back gate). When the car just can’t get you there quickly enough. When you’ve planned your evening from the minute you leave the office to the minute you head bedwards.
And tonight I was in the happy position of having the opportunity to leave at the time my employer pays me to leave (rather than 90 minutes later).
I had given a commitment to a friend to undertake one of our legendary training walks (ie we had agreed our second stroll along the towpath). Which, again, was overtaken by as plausible an excuse as could be manufactured (by her, this time). Leaving me excited about the prospect of being home early, perhaps sitting in the garden for half an hour in the sun, having dinner then slobbing in front of the tv.
Oh how sad life is when this plan starts to take on the dimensions of an elixir of life! A fantasy rivalling the big lottery win!
Nevertheless – I cannot deny this as my state of being and amongst my truest pleasures in life. (Alongside a little retail therapy and some spa time!)
But tonight, despite the promising start, was doomed to deliver only disappointment.
Tonight, it appeared, was the night Belfast became gridlocked.
So. Here I am, finally, at home, having sat in two hours of traffic jams. Now – I’ve no doubt that people came out of this worse than myself (after all, it all resulted from accidents on a couple of major roads!) But – I’m feeling particularly sorry for myself and resentful of all the wasted time. And the missed opportunity to tan up my lily white arms. And the delay in reaching my blog. And ……..
But – you get the picture, don’t you?? I just needed to let you know that living by the sea has it’s day to day drawbacks – with very little time to stop and stare or even, usually, to notice the horizon.