A minor rant on the iniquities of travel.. *sigh*

So, I had to go away from home for a couple of days because of work. It's a piece of cake really, a good excuse to have a break from here paid for by my ever-generous employers (hey, if my boss says 'book what you need' who am I to argue with him?).

So, I did what I needed to, got to mooch about beside the seaside for the first time in ages, and then I tried to get home. And that was where it all went horribly wrong.

I dragged myself out of bed at some ungodly hour this morning to drive to the airport (bad planning on my part, not calculating the 'getting my ass out of bed time', and the 'driving time', then adding them to the 'checking in time' and realising just how early I'd need to get up...).

Only to be told my plane has been cancelled. But that's not a problem, says the nice woman from British Airways they're going to put me on the next plane to the nearest airport (approx. 70 miles from Airport #1) and sort out to get me back there to pick up my car.

Alas, the car park that is the M6 decides not to cooperate... grrrr. So, instead of getting to Airport #1 at 10am and being home by 11am, I am at Airport #1 just after 2pm and get home at 3.30pm.

So much for all the things I was going to do today!