Z copes

The London trip went very well, once I’d got onto the station platform. Humph. I’ll tell you all about it, though it’s not that interesting, I must admit.

I arrived at the station in good time and parked, well away from the entrance, because the car park was nearly full, but quite near a ticket machine. As I approached said machine, I observed that there was a bag over it and a notice on it. Out of order, I presumed, and trotted towards the next one. Same thing. I might have muttered grrr or some such – but I aimed at the next damn machine, where I finally read the notice. It said that there were new ticket machines by the station entrance and that all others were redundant. I wish they’d put a sign up at the entrance to the car park to explain. Anyway, once I’d found the machines it was okay, except that the one I used wouldn’t accept my card, so it was just as well that I had £4.50 in cash.

After that, it was plain sailing. I did all I meant to and, though I’d been prepared to miss a 4 o’clock train and have to do other things until 7 pm (an off-peak ticket costs a little over £50, but an any time ticket is eye-watering), I actually caught the 3.30. I have asked Lovely Tim to insist I do what needs to be done tomorrow, rather than hide in a corner for a few weeks before just coping.

Many years ago, when I was being put under pressure for something I couldn’t control, by a family member, I had to say “I’m sorry darling, you just have to cope.” The person concerned told me, later, that it was really unsatisfactory but it was also true. Sometimes, you just have to cope.

5 comments on “Z copes

  1. Mike and Ann.

    Getting to London from here by public transport is not easy, and we’re probably about fory five miles or so nearer than you are! You have my sympathy. I go up about twice per annum, and tend to stay over. Our London grandchildren always have a bed to spare and a welcome for the grandparents, so it could be worse. Usually it’s up one day and view the auction. Then back to the sale the following day and bid, then home if all’s gone well, or another night at Lizzie’s, then home. Could be worse, I suppose; and as Ann always reminds me, as I’ve now ‘retired’ there’s no actual need to go. That’s unarguable of course, but I do still enjoy bits of it. Can be tiring though- Anno Domini I suppose, but that doesn’t apply to you yet Zoe. I suppose the answer is to take it easy and try to enjoy it?

    P.s. You’re right about ‘having to cope.’

    P.s. My late mother-in-law used to say, as she approached her hundredth year “Nobody ever warned me it would be like this!”!

  2. Mike and Ann.

    And in fairness Ma’am, a very few who don’t cope because they can’t, and therefore have no choice in the matter, Lord help ’em.

  3. Z Post author

    Well yes, some people can’t cope and they can’t help that. I don’t see that it’s always a matter of choice. Sometimes, the ones who’ve coped longest are the ones whose breakdowns, mental, physical or both, are the worst.


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