Last Thursday I found myself starring in my own version of "The Day Britain Stopped".
After an early morning visit to the Doctor's (tonsils again!) I left the surgery and attempted to get to work.
Obstacle no. 1: The back road I was going to take to get to a train station was closed for maintenance.
Great. My first chosen route simply wasn't an option. Oh well, not too much I could do about it I suppose, but it wasn't good news when linked with...
Obstacle no. 2: Grass cutting.
Yes, grass cutting. For those of you who don't know the local custom here it seems that South Lanarkshire Council insist on closing road lanes whenever they've got grass to cut. I don't agree with this at the best of times, but when the other road out of town is closed and it happens to be a rush hour, well, it makes sense not to do it then, doesn't it?
The result? A section of the drive that should have taken two minutes (between Carluke and the old Law Hospital) took twenty, and instead of thinking of important things like "How do you pronounce the word 'antibiotic'?" (something I have a mental block over) I was thinking things like "How far can I throw one of these traffic cones?"
After passing the glorified lawn mowers I managed to get moving reasonably well... for about five minutes.
Obstacle no. 3: More Roadworks.
Then I stumbled upon more roadworks on the A73. All of this was in attempt to get to work more quickly, and somehow I was going to be even later still. Terrific.
Why did South and North Lanarkshire Councils both co-ordinate these events in such a way? Could they not have arranged things so that several significant roads could not have come to a grinding halt all at the same time? All I could think about was a quote from "Good Will Hunting", a quote which I can't repeat, but which points out about something being easy and yet being something which people can, um, get badly wrong, while other people have to watch it happening.
(Incidentally I've never seen "Good Will Hunting", so I don't know the context surrounding the quote. I just read it in a Bill Simmons column once - he's FANNNNNNN-tastic!)
Knowing my tonsils I'll probably be back at the Doctor's surgery in two months time. Do I want to go through that same journey again? No, can't I just remove my own tonsils at home instead? It can't fail to be less aggravation.
At the end of the year I'll have to nominate a day as the worst of the year. Thursday 29th May is the one outstanding candidate thus far...
Have a good week!