Trauma

I have a very traumatic morning. Firstly I couldn’t get the rear light on my bike to work. Which is my own fault; I'd left the top off it, because I was recharging the batteries, when I washed my bike on Sunday. Now it's full of water. I fiddled with it for ages before I finally got it working but that made me late leaving. Then to top that I hit another pothole and my rear tyre goes down again. I must be doing something wrong. Perhaps it's because my wheel rims are so damaged from being in potholes that I think splinters of metal are getting inside the tyre. Either that or too many black cats have crossed my path. Not looking good for my little event on Sunday.

Having read a lot of the comments posted by Leeds supporters on the various websites, I can now fully understand why Dennis Wise left. He wasn't exactly Mr Popular despite his relative success there. I suppose his move to Newcastle might be shrewder than I though if Keegan does his usual walking out trick. Wise might then get offered the managers job but can you imagine the Geordie's reaction to that? They want Shearer and get Dennis instead.

The day doesn't get any better for me and it's raining as I leave work. I put on my overtrousers but forget about my overshoes, so wet feet. My rear light isn't working again, so I pop into Halfords to buy a cheap temporary replacement. Although £12 is not exactly cheap.

No punctures on the way home but I'm still running half an hour late when I arrive at the pool. I've brought my swim forward a day because there's more humiliation at Pride Park tomorrow night. Luckily the council's random opening hours generator has chucked up an 8pm pool closing tonight, so I have time for a swim.

As I park my bike I have to push my way through the crowds because all the blinds in the fitness studio are up and the 'fan club' have assembled to watch all the bunnies inside going through their manoeuvres. Hang on a sec, that's L in there, showing them how it's done.

The pool is simply hell. Only two lanes of course, as it’s a Tuesday. There are six people in lane two and four in lane one. The main section is chocker. Lane one it is then. Luckily everyone is roughly the same pace so, despite the crowds, it's a good session.

As I get out Mr Stop-Start is just arriving. He's not going to like the crowds in lane one, nor they him.

I get home and walk Doggo up to meet L, who's having a swim herself, post aerobics. This is all the exercise he's getting tonight.

The mystery of Son always having his bedroom window open even when it's minus three outside has been kind of solved. We assumed he was just too hot and I even turned his radiator down to a lower mark but it turns out it's just to stop his wifi adapter overheating. He blames the central heating, I think it's more likely to be burning white hot with constant use.

L does bolognaise, then offers another early night. Wa-hey.