Woke up late. Entirely my own fault. But rushing rushing rushing to get to my final day at real-job-which-pays-real-money.
Car wouldn't start. It decided not to inform me of this until I was partway out of the garage.
Was wearing clothes that can't be cycled in. Rushing rushing rushing back upstairs to change.
Gears on the bicycle decided to choose today to bid farewell to the cruel cruel world.
Legs moving like a jet propeller, bicycle moving like a tortoise on valium, I eventually made it to job-which-pays-real-money. To find they had nothing left for me to do.
Got home to find plumber had been and gone and carefully locked the deadbolt on the door, which we never use and which I therefore don't carry keys for. Locked out.
Which gave me ample time to repair my bicycle, tidy the junk cupboard in the garage, and hit bits of the car engine experimentally with a hammer. (Let it never be said that I don't know how to entertain myself.)