Just a quickie since it’s already Too Late and I should be tucked up in bed. I get to lie in (hah!) until 6:30 tomorrow so am allowing myself a slightly late night…

So, this afternoon, I was having a scheduled 1:1 with my boss, who is lovely. He is very slightly younger than me (by months if that, and we’re really both quite young.) and so we have a lot of common cultural references and are at a similar place I our lives.

Plus, did I mention he’s lovely? In a boss kind of way, nothing weird or odd, obviously. That would be weird. And odd.

So, we were chatting away, and not wanting to be rude, I wasn’t checking my watch that often. Then I checked my watch and realised it was 5 past hometime.

I’m not a clockwatcher and as we were having quite a good discussion I nearly didn’t say anything. However, there are children to be looked after and if I don’t leave at Hometime, I miss my train. Or I might do. 5 past, which turns into 10 past out of the door means pretty much I’ve missed my train.

Boss, as a fellow train traveller, assured me that 15 minutes door to train was eminently manageable. To cut a long story short, it turns out it is manageable, but only if I nearly kill myself in the process.

I ended up sitting by the train gang who were so sympathetic that I realised I looked as though I’d run about a mile to catch the train. I was offered refreshing wet wipes and mints to help me to recover, which took until Salford Crescent.

So it turns out Boss was right, but I may have left my dignity somewhere in front of Whitworth Hall…