It may be Super Tuesday over in my 'other' country, but I haven't got the energy for anything other than a very short post tonight. A few hours ago I took one step onto the moving walkway at Buchanan Street subway station, went flying and fell flat on my back. I then got up, took one more step, went flying and fell flat on my back. I think the girl behind me thought I was drunk, but in fact it was my hopeless trainers that were to blame. Not exactly being an avid rugby player or boxer, I'm not used to those kind of tumbles, and hitting a hard metallic surface twice in the space of twenty seconds was a bit much.
Bizarrely, two minutes later I found myself sitting directly opposite Wendy Alexander on the train. I'd never want to offend anyone, so if by any chance she heard me groaning, I do hope she realised it was because I was in excruciating physical pain, and not because I'd just remembered the Hungry Caterpillar speech.