Tomorrow I shall be leaving my fellow motorists unscared as I swap my driving gloves (not really) for a return rail ticket from Bromsgrove to Birmingham.
Yes, I’m exchanging my home collective of scientific bods for an away fixture.
The best thing about this is that I’m able to do this journey on a strange metaphysical construct some people have chosen to label as…
Public Transport (duh, duh, duuuuuuh!).
I shall leave the house, walk the five minutes to the train station and (presuming the train turns up) hop aboard where I’ll join the cheery throng of Monday morning commuters.
Fully equipped with my 21st Century weaponry (iPod and laptop) I’ll take my seat and will be swiftly conveyed through the countryside towards the hustling conurbation that is the City of Birmingham.
I’m sad because I’m actually looking forward to having the opportunity to travel on the train – but only because my normal five-days-a-week trip is (according to the train operators) a journey that no-one (wants?) should be able to make.
Next Monday I get to take another train. Couple of trains. Destination Liverpool.
But for tomorrow, Birmingham is enough.
Tomorrow the world!
exits stage left cackling evilly…