It was one of those situations where lots of little bits of disorganised crapness combine and reach critical mass: the slow puncture I'd been going to ring the garage about as soon as I got to work becoming a very rapid puncture, the mobile phone I'd been going to charge up as soon as I got to work running out of juice. I guess the moral here is 'don't sort out your entire personal life in office hours'.
Happily I was able to turn my mobile on for just long enough to retrieve the number of my breakdown service, there was an unvandalised payphone box across the road and I had enough change to make a call. I spoke to a lady of supernal loveliness who promised to enter me onto the system as 'vulnerable' in a 'desolate area' despite the fact that I was standing beside the A2 in the middle of rush hour.
Today was also, of course, the one day I neglected to throw the iPod into my bag on the grounds that I don't need it at work. So it was a very dull forty-five minutes I spent waiting for my Knight of the Road to show up, as well as cold and drizzly.
No complaints, though. I didn't come off, I didn't have to pay a fortune for breakdown recovery, the tyre is plugged temporarily and I'm booked in for a wheel change tomorrow. However, I got to work to find my D-lock had fallen apart and won't lock. I've left it artfully arranged to look like a solid, working piece of mechanics, and I'm hoping the whole shebang doesn't get pinched. Feel free to add your prayers to mine.
Edit: Safely deposited at the bike shop for repair tomorrow.