The Trifecta Of Misery

OK, so UK voting day. Used the bike to go to the polling station. Seems the ride there was either lost or didn’t record somehow. I think that’s because I mucked about too much trying to set the bike alarm, and then realised it was only a bunch of old duffers knocking about and by the time I’d got in, they’d voted Tory, and I’d got out, any would be thief wouldn’t have had time to get their leg over the bar.

Whatever. I lost the first bit of the ride.

As soon as I left the polling station (fat X for Labour, fyi), the rain began. Is that a bad omen? Possibly.

After that, it was … well, miserable.

I got soaked, and subsequently very cold. I then got too hot on the chest because I’d worn my gilet (who the hell knew it was Summer), and so when I took that off, my body was wet with sweat on the inside, and the rest of me was wet on the outside.

Oh, and did I mention the wind?


Or the porsche driver who didn’t see me and pulled out on me forcing an emergency stop?


Or the fact I just couldn’t rightly be arsed, not at all helped by the frankly appalling weather?


What a crap ride.

Still, a new PB on my fatigue. Every cloud.

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