Deflated

Cycling to work today, I was about the 2.5 mile mark, or 1/4 the total, when my auto-pilot pedalling was interrupted by a rustling sound, like one of the straps from the rucksack on the pannier was brushing against the tyre. So I stopped.

But the noise didn't.

A 1cm rip in the back tyre was whistling as it let all the air out; not the worst puncture I've ever had (that was when a tooth of the tread fell out, leaving a hole big enough to poke my little finger through), but certainly not amenable to running repair that I'd trust for the rest of the round trip. So I trudged back home, getting some of the time out in the lovely weather that I'd been wanting.

And now on getting into the office, I find that my laptop has packed up - not a sausage when powered up - and that no-one around the office knows what the new official procedure is for dealing with hardware failures.

So it's not shaping up to be such a good week.