So I spent the weekend in Brighton: it was a fantastic idea for a last-minute getaway and I am really quite pleased that I went. The weather was cold and crisp but very sunny, and PY and I had a fantastic time roaming the shops, walking the pier, drinking coffee and doing all sorts of good things.
We left earlier this afternoon for the hour-long car ride home only to end up stuck in four hours of non-moving traffic at the end of the M23 (where it joins the M25). Sitting in a car, going nowhere, staring at the rear brake lights of the vehicle in front (and watching people dart from lane to lane to try to move 100 metres forward) was a very depressing way to end what had been, until then, a relaxing weekend. It’s such a shame our transport system means I am now more stressed than when I left the office on Friday night (it also means we’ve just eaten a stack of takeaway junk food, but that’s another story).
Maybe I should start looking forward to the week ahead