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.