Minor followed by major rant

Couldn’t face the prospect of the sweaty crush and squabble Londoners affectionately call “the Tube” and biked it in. Calmly (unusually) & patiently drove round & round & round Soho for 20 mins until finally, with the help of a burly Eastern European builder, managed to squeeze her in between a gorgeous silver Guzzi and generic plastic scooter on Glasshouse Street. Jauntily sauntered through Golden Square happy in the knowledge that she was safe for the day.

When parking in Central London you always return to the vehicle with a certain amount of trepidation:- a snapped wing-mirror; clutch cable removed perhaps; bent front forks? No, not this time – a ticket. A parking ticket. For parking in a bike bay – a bike bay I’ve used for the last ten, TEN years. My own fault really for not reading the propaganda free sheets but apparently Westminster Council are now charging bikes to park in bike bays. Brilliant. You’re really pushing the eco message home here boys.

So B******d Landlord – you know the one – wanted to charge me the cost of removing and “storing” the flea ridden mattress he optimistically called a bed when I moved in – yes him – well turns out we’re irrevocably tied until February. This hasn’t sunk in sufficiently to make me suicidal - yet. Just tipping the scales on outright rage though. I argued he’d moved in another tenant without consultation but he said the mice weren't paying rent so didn’t count.

Worryingly my current life choices all have a similar price tag – move & lose a months deposit (home/health) –v- OU course (self-improvement) –v- wing-walking (fun) –v- front tooth replaced (health/vanity) –v- night out with Ms Pollock (more fun but I won’t remember it)…