Here's me, at 11.15 last night, standing in the toilets at McDonalds, a place I haven't been seen for at least 13 years.
We were attempting to go camping in the Yorkshire Dales, altogether more pretty than a service station on the A1M, but, well, life kind of got in the way, as it does.
We'd planned to take our car, and sleep in it (because it really is Most Cosy for sleeping in, our car), but, well, it was making a rather peculiar noise, and the garage advised us not to take it anywhere far away because the wheels might fall off.
(those may not have been their *exact* words, in case you were starting to panic, but they had a similar effect, and we decided not to go)
Anyway - last minute, we realised we could get a lift with some lovely friends, which involved an hour of dashing round the house, finding tents, figuring out what to sleep ON (the futon out of the car seemed a bit extravagant for a tent), and generally packing.
And then, hooray! we were off.
For an hour and a half, at least, until there was a loud bang, and lots of smoke. And an hour standing at the side of the M1 (which was kind of like a mini (and very bad) camping trip itself.
The whole thing turned faintly ridiculous when we spotted a bloke walking towards us down the hard shoulder of the motorway (!) and then realised we knew him!
Anyway, the RAC man towed us to the industrial park, where we spent an interesting half hour drinking insipid tea and reading the Knaresborough Post.
Finally got back home about half past midnight, after a ride in a GIANT exciting rescue truck.
I'm thinking that somebody, somewhere, doesn't want us to go camping this weekend...
(still, plenty of other exciting things to get up to, and it'll give me a chance to catch up on a few blog posts of things I've been meaning to tell you about!)