Warning: rant ahead

I'm back in Shetland for the next three days; hopefully, work will be less frantic and less annoying than the journey to get here.  Part of it was my own fault - I couldn't decide what to wear on the plane and spent too much time trying to find something that looked good with my Susie's Sheepskin Boots (in the end, I gave up and wore my usual jeans/cardi/walking shoes combination) and then realised that I had forgotten my netbook at the office so had to leave the house earlier than I had planned in order to whizz into town to collect it.  No time for lunch at home and no time at the airport for proper food OR for my ritual capuccino and cupcake.  Grumpy grumpy grumpy.

And what is with me and those bloody walking shoes, anyway???  I hate them!  They have ALWAYS irritated my achilles tendon - they hit at the most sensitive part - but I continue to wear them and continue to complain about them and continue to wonder why my achilles keeps hurting.  I limped from my car to the airport terminal, limped to the check-in desk, limped through Security, and limped onto the plane.  Ow ow ow.  Grumpy grumpy grumpy.

The departure lounge at Inverness Airport was heaving due to several delayed easyJet departures, and I felt like a (limping) salmon making my way upstream trying to get to my departure gate.  The flight itself was fine and we arrived at Sumburgh bang on time.  Unfortunately, my taxi didn't.  In fact, it didn't arrive at all.  Most unusually, there was a spare empty taxi outside the terminal building; I ignored the fact that the driver smelled like he had had a few drinks and we set off.  £45 later, I was safely in the flat.  Sigh of relief.

I unpacked and then limped off to Tesco (wearing my running shoes instead of the walking shoes, which helped a bit).  When I left Tesco 30 minutes later, it was to a torrential downpour.  My Didrikson's parka performed well; I wish that I could say the same for my jeans and running shoes, which were soaked through by the time I got home.  I'd like to be able to say that I made myself some nice, warm, homely food - but I didn't.  It's too late and I'm too grumpy to face the kitchen.  (Actually, I'm always too grumpy to face the kitchen.  Nothing new there.)  Thank goodness for Kettle Chips.

Some journeys are better than others.  This wasn't one of them.