It's a jungle out there

I had a bit of a jungly day today. For a start, I thought I might try getting up before work and getting the run in before the heat started. This, needless to say, didn't happen. The alarm clock went off: I didn't. I did get to work more or less on time; just in time for a killer meeting. It was supposed to be finished by 12:30. It actually finished just before 3. This screwed up my day. I didn't have time to go running, and I didn't have time to go to the bank. This latter was pretty urgent. I also didn't have time to do the several hundred things I was supposed to do, which was slightly annoying - I've got a busy week next week and then I'm ON HOLIDAY! Which means there are some things that need to be done first, excited though I am about this.

But sometimes, there are other things that need to be done. In this case, it was sorting out my bank, which bounced a cheque last week. I had spent 1.5 hours on online banking last night, at the cost of learning my lines, and accomplished nothing. So, i went into the branch feeling somewhat put out. Now, I love my branch. The staff there are always so helpful, I will divulge that, despite it's unpopularity nationally, that the Peterborough branch of RBS are extremely helpful and lovely people. So I was in a quandery, because I didn't want to be unpleasant at them. Sometimes, this works best though: I said as much to the nice young man who was allocated to see me (I've had meetings with him before: he said his wife would like my shoes, so I remember him particularly). I expressed my disgust with online banking, Santander, and various other things that were bothering me, and he absented himself from the room for a few moments. I have reason to believe that I was supposed to ring some cretinous number myself, but by the time he came back, it was all sorted. He won the RBS a stay of execution today.

The whole bank thing took longer than I thought though, and while I'd told the Friday night crew I'd be in the pub after work, by the time I got home and ready to go out, I realised it was going to be after 6 by the time I arrived. I had a plan to take some non-running clothes with me and do my 5k on the way to Charters, but just before I left the house, I texted Ian, and he said he'd be gone by the time I arrived. This made things simpler, as I left the bag of clothes at home. After the beautiful day, it was still hot at 5:30, and I managed to put some music onto my phone, so I set out at a good pace. I ran the route I did on Wednesday, and along the cycle path down to Fengate, I saw a young-ish man ahead of me, in a red sports top. He turned when I came along the route, but as I approached him, he distinctly put his hand down his trousers. I'm not one for staring, so I can't tell you whether he actually exposed himself, and while I was tempted to give him the once over and laugh, or say sarcastically, "that's how it starts you know", I did neither of these things. I increased my speed a bit. Honestly, it's the first time in Peterborough that I've seen what I'd class as a pervert, and he was younger than I'd expected. Apart from the tramp I see from time to time with his trousers half way down his backside. To be honest, he smells so bad, I wouldn't look there either. Ironically, the Magnets were playing "A little bit of something" as I passed him.

Anyway, what with the pervert, and the muzak playing, I kept the (pretty good) pace I'd started out at. I was quite pleased with myself, because I was at DAVE PACE. 9:48. I was so pleased about this, I made a concerted effort to keep it going. There was some difference between Runkeeper and the garmin, and I was suspicious because of the discrepancy the other day. Admittedly, Nic phoned just as I was approaching the pelican crossing and I paused the garmin, but not the runkeeper, so I'm sure that's the explanation.

When I got home, I decided, after a lengthy period of messing about on Facebook, to go and tackle the garden, which is the project for the weekend. It was insane. It wasn't actually waist-high, but it seriously wasn't far off in places. I mowed 1/3 of the grass, and filled the brown bin up. That should give you some idea. I saw my neighbour yesterday morning as I was leaving my house. She actually peered into my house (I'd dashed back in to collect something). She said she missed me, and her mother (who speaks no English whatsoever) also missed me. When I saw the garden tonight, I was seriously surprised that she hadn't reported me as missing, presumed dead, to the police. I posted some pictures on Facebook, and Britta posted a link to "It's a jungle out there".

She wasn't wrong. It certainly is. What with one thing, and another.