Blogging in my lunch hour. Strictly speaking the “lunch” part covers about 20 minutes. The rest is usually spent checking Facebook, doing the crossword, checking Facebook, reading email, checking Facebook and reading the Guardian website. I’m not sure if I’ve become a teenage girl or an OAP.

Still struggling with the back-to-work thing. Having gotten a lift in yesterday, I’d forgotten just HOW early I have to get up in order to get the bus. More to the point, I forgot just how early I have to go to bed in order to get up early again. If it wasn’t for John Humphries, I’d still be in bed now.

Luckily, the bus driver is a star. He’s learned that it’s worth waiting five minutes to see if I come barreling round the corner with my shirt half buttoned and coat flapping in the wind, as the expansive outpouring of gratitude when I hurl myself on to the bus probably makes his day. Getting on in time and knowing I don’t have to trek to work via the “bus-swearing-wait-swear-tram-moreswearing-wait-swear-tram-swearyswearswear” alternative route certainly makes mine.

One day, when I’m in charge, I’ll make all public transport free. And there will be lots of it. And it will go everywhere. And it will run on Unicorn tears. And the exhaust will smell of newly baked bread and mirth. And none of the passengers will have mobile phones. Or brats. And the drivers will all know exactly where they are going.

you’d vote for me, wouldn’t you?