My Big Phat Cock-Up

I remarked to my brother shortly before i left how useless the body's proclivity toward heating up in times of stress is. I had arrived at my local station one frosty winters morning only to discover i had left my ticket at home.

Despite the fact that my respiratory system had insisted on me remaining distressingly cold throughout the walk to the station, as soon as I was mildly distressed i became hotter beneath the collar than a hard pressed Gordon Brown at prime ministers question time.

Presumably our bodies keep the thermostat set fairly low the majority of the time thanks to some part its sell-by date evolutionary dictum to conserve energy. This is clearly unnecessary in a modern world where most of us are dramatically overburdened with calories and, indeed, would welcome the opportunity to consume a few more guilt free. Forget skimming pills and designer diets, imagine being able to lose weight simply by jumping into a chest freezer.

The reason i'm talking about this now is that this afternoon i had a similarly armpit-moistening moment. Funnily enough it was also caused by a transport cock-up. This one was on a substantially more epic scale. I'd been very proud of the hundred dollar ticket to California I'd managed to book myself online. The travel agent back home couldn't compete and I'd been quietly chuffed about it ever since.

Unfortunately, when I went to check in online this afternoon the smile was thoroughly wiped from my face. It turns out there are two San Jose's. One is in California, and there's no prizes for guessing where my hundred flight left from. Or the size of the refund I'll be getting. So, down a hundred bucks, looking at six hundred more on my credit card, sweating like a pig in my, admittedly lovely this time, hotel room and feeling like a prize...

Well, i'm not going to put that in print that it's a family blog. You can fill in the blanks can't you? You managed earlier. Tune in next week!

Voodoo out.

ps, there's a mosquito in here somewhere, I know it!