The Law of the Sod

Walking.
Shoes too small.
Wishing I'd come by bike.
Cannon Street closed (as I bloody-well should o' known it would be at this bloody time).
Walking.
Shoes still too small.
Signal fault at London Bridge (as I bloody-well should have pessimistically predicted on such an evening as bloody this).
Really wishing I'd come by bike.
Running.
Terrible idea at any time (except, of course, unless velociraptors are involved).
Additionally, shoes still to small.
Bus late.
Bus slow.
Scheduled bus times appear to be based on noöne ever joining or alighting.
Passengers are an inconvenience, evidently.
Really, really wishing I'd come by bike.
Happily though, I have drunk too much coffee & tea for this time of night, so I shalln't be waking up in Bellingham.
Bus stops at Lewisham Shopping Centre rather than Lewisham Police Station, i.e. it deposits us in a wretched hive of scum & villainy.
By my various gods, I cannot begin to describe how much I am wishing I'd come by bike.
Walking.
On another bus.
Walking.
Attempting to enter house silently.
Oh what's that? I made plum crumble earlier in the day? It's matured beautifully? Plumble™, get thee down my oesophagus.

- jawj