Yesterday morning I wrote about being able to walk.

Yesterday afternoon I found out I could also run up hills. Not entirely voluntarily.

That being said, no one actually forced me to run anywhere, so it probably was self inflicted, even if not intentional or planned.

Besides writing on here I spent a happy morning getting lost on YouTube and having a hot bath and just generally dossing about. Then a friend phoned to ask me whether I thought she should say ‘think’ or ‘believe’ in her English homework (and to complain about her useless, incompetent, selfish, unthinking boyfriend).

I swept most of my house one-handedly, and wedged my phone between my shoulder and my ear while folding the washing.

When I finally finished on the phone I realised I had something like 20 minutes to pack and be on the bus. That wouldn’t normally be a problem, but I’d been skiing, most of me ached in varying degrees, and I had to start by emptying my suitcase before I could repack it.

I left the house having not been to the loo, and with 4 minutes to be at the bus stop. I ran as far up the hill as I could (which turned out to not be very far at all), walked as fast as I could (not very fast) for the next few hundred metres, and started running again.

There was still a lot of hill left when the bus came up behind me, but I could see people waiting at the bus stop so I didn’t give up. I almost did when it started to make hissing, pulling-away-from-the-curb noises, but then I noticed a couple of small children getting out. They were followed by a huge double buggy, another small child and a slightly distressed mother. By the time they got out, I was close enough to hurl myself and my suitcase at the bus and hope that the doors wouldn’t be closed before I’d got past them.

(originally called “On late busses and misunderstandings (part 1)” but there doesn’t seem to be a part 2… so I changed the name :))