Crazy, crazy days. This is an unexpectedly sneaky early view of the next instalment of this long, sorry tale because I’ve LOST MY PASSPORT AGAIN. And, I need the number for a passport form I’ve witnessed tonight. After relentlessly looking for the actual passport, I searched for possible electronic records of the number (on old e-tickets, etc). That turned up this email reminding me vividly of the Moroccan weekend away; Continue reading
Following on from Part 1 (if you can bear to…), we are on the airport shuttle from the car park to Terminal 2 in Heathrow with the tickets, passports and Richy’s wallet on the roof of the car in the long stay car park. I don’t think I need to detail the kind of exchange (or non-exchange) we were having for the remainder of the 20 minute journey. Continue reading
In line with the responsibility angle of a lot of these blog posts, I’ve invented a new pseudo condition – dyscalculexia. This, for the less medically inclined is a (made up) mixture of difficulties reading both words and numbers. It isn’t a medically recognised disorder, but it can only be a matter of time. It is possibly also a way of avoiding hate mail. Continue reading
mydaftlife 