The alarm goes off at a frankly unconscionable 5am and I drag myself up and into the shower. K and I hurriedly dress and K bolts some cereal while I head down with Dazz, scrape the car off and bring it round the front. Strangely, we’re not as overly concerned about getting parking tickets as we were when we parked here to unload last night. Wonder why?
We’re on the road by 6am, heading South as rapidly as we safely can, making good time until we have to make a stop for petrol, delaying us just a touch. We get back to Mum and Dad’s around 8.30, where I drop K as it’s closer to the M1 than our place, then pretty much turn straight around, heading again for fuel (I wasn’t going to fill my whole tank at service-station prices when I knew I could top up in MK for about 5p per litre cheaper), grabbing something for breakfast and a large cup of coffee at the same time.
I get back on the road and fly down the M1 and round the M25 to Surrey to Emily’s place for the Live Life Then Give Life meeting. To my surprise, even after turning off the wrong junction (I blame my crap-covered windscreen, not my memory), I still arrive in plenty of time.
We have a meeting, which all goes very well and we sort everything from the week out, which is a blessing, plus move forward with our planning for the next 12 months or so. I leave around 2.30, dropping Jen at the station before hitting the M1 home and getting in around 4ish after making really good time home – and not even speeding crazily.
I get to Mum and Dad’s and, since I’m earlier than I’d thought, I head upstairs and pass out on the bed for an hour. After my nap I wander downstairs and sit flicking through the paper and the book I bought at Blackwell’s yesterday, which somehow seems a very, very long time ago.
Dad rustles us up some steaks, which are lovely but still have to be disappointly over-cooked due to my strict dietary-controls post-transplant. I have them less-than-well done, which is technically against the rules, but I don’t see the point in steak if you cremate it before eating it. And it’s not blue, or even rare, so that’s OK I figure.
After dinner we head back to the flat, where we veg in front of the telly and catch up on some Sky+’d stuff before calling it a night early, where I hit the pillow and pass out completely.
Some other posts you might like:
- Nope, we got nada!