Rainy days

I'm just getting over a tricky week. It started last week when I saw a suicide victim lying under the wheels of a motorway maintenance lorry on Shooters Hill, opposite the disused police station. He'd been crushed under the black wheels and a pool of blood - still bright red - surrounded him.

I hurried on, a bit shaken. But it occupied my mind to the point that when a pannier fell off my bike I failed to notice. Ended up spending the day trying to locate the lost bag - but failed. Then I slapped my forehead as I realised I'd lost my keys and documents with my address on them in the same bag.

I wanted to rush home to change the locks, but ended up meeting with S as she had the only spare keys to my house, and we (strangely) found our way into the pub, and then a fantastic Thai restaurant.

I got home very late and only managed to change my locks the next morning.

Saturday, I received a phone call from Forest gate police station - they had my bag. Hurrah.

I got the bag back on Monday, but now had no cheque book as I'd had to cancel it, which meant I couldn't pay maintenance charges on my house and was being threatened with court action. So today I managed to pay the Housing Association in person using a credit card cheque, and made it into work, by car, and quite late.

This on the day that a document I've been working on for some months is due to be finished. Which meant I was in the office till after 7.00 this evening.

Stress? Yep!

Some pictures:

This is me ignoring a sign to not leave vehicles unattended on the Woolwich Ferry (above). And below, another sign I prefer to ignore.