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Are you that bloke from Bon Jovi?

Sometimes in life, everything just seems to go right. Your job, your family, your exercise… even your hair sits the way you want it to. This week has been no such time. My job was tougher than I ever imagined it could be, Faith has been throwing herself down stairs, I got a puncture in my bike tyre (twice), and my hair would have only looked ‘right’ at a Bon Jovi concert.

I was just about to finish what felt like the longest shift in history when Faith phoned me in tears. All I could make out was that she’d fallen down the (much talked about) stairs in our flat. With my bike out of action, I ran the two-mile trip across town, doing my best to keep my cool (mentally and physically). Without pausing for breath, I loaded Faith into the car and we headed for A and E.

God Bless the NHS, but the ladies behind the counter didn’t seem to understand the urgency of the situation. After finishing their game of minesweeper (or whatever they were doing) I was able to explain to them what had happened and we took our seat between the drunken brawlers. A few long minutes later, Faith felt the baby move and the world seemed to slow down again. Doctors confirmed that everything was okay and the badly bruised Faith and I headed home, relieved.

I repaired my bike and thought I’d go for a leisurely ride to calm down. A few miles out of town I was struck down with another puncture. I ran home (I did a lot of running this week,) now late for work. Not to worry though, Faith offered to give me a lift to work. As it turns out our little car has taken a dislike to the drop in temperature and is now refusing to go anywhere. Tired of running, I decided to accept that I was going to be late and settled into a brisk stroll.

So, on the to-do list for next week is to head to the hairdressers (or join a Bon Jovi tribute band), find a mechanic that doesn’t want my soul in exchange for fixing my car, buy another puncture repair kit and install a stair lift in the flat…sorted.

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