I used to not mind driving long distances. I can recall making plans with friends for holidays to far flung parts of the UK and quite happily offering to drive.
These days it's a chore and just an extra reason to prefer public transport wherever feasible.
Of course some likes and dislikes remain unaltered by the passing years; I have never been what one might call a morning person and I strongly suspect I never will be. Need someone to stay up all night and I'm your gal, but expect me to rise bright eyed and bushy tailed even after copious amounts of sleep - not a chance.
At the end of a particularly stressful week I'm therefore not exactly reveling at the prospect of a 5am start to get down to today's Greenbelt Festival Operations meeting.
Waking at 4am the intense stabbing pains behind my right eye are the unmistakable first signs of a migraine. I take my meds, offer up a plea and try and sleep it off. Happily it seems to work and as H and R arrive at my place I'm feeling ok to drive.
That said, the relief I feel when H offers to drive is immense. I feel bad, she drove last week, so it was my turn, but every fibre of my body is grateful to be let off the hook.
Sometimes the knights that come to our rescue in times of distress take unexpected form; friends in small Citreons is but one such disguise.
No comments:
Post a Comment