Missing Pink

Following on from yesterday’s post about Pink, Portman Stadium, and signs in general, some extra thoughts…

1) I can be a total arse. I know that’s not really news, but all the same, it’s worth re-iterating.

2) I fucking hate getting lost, being late etc.

3) If I’ve had a crap day, my tolerance for 2) is particularly low, leading to qualifying even more for 1)

Tuesday was, however I look at it, an exceedingly crap day. Stuff had come up at work that had affected me – nothing seriously traumatic of negative, it’d just been one of those days. In all fairness I really wasn’t in the mood for a late night – particularly with the knowledge of an early start in the morning. (For a number of reasons, last working day of the month is a big day in the current job, and requires coming in earlier than usual)

So the afternoon/evening didn’t start off all that well, and my mood wasn’t the best. Not being able to find the stadium just pissed me off a lot, and I didn’t do what I should’ve done, which was either

1. Stop and think a bit
2. Call someone else already there and find out how to get there
3. Use the iPhone to do the same as 2
4. Stop somewhere and ask someone.

I should have done one or more of those. Instead I got locked in to trying to find the place by driving along the A14.

Admittedly, I also didn’t expect the stadium to be in the town/city centre. All the other stadia (stadiums? I dunno) I know of are on the outskirts, not in the centre. Manchester, Norwich, Oxford, Crewe, Stockport – all on the outskirts. I also kind of expect there to be signs to say where the hell to go – after all, it’s not like a stadium is somewhere that no-one ever goes to.

But anyway, I did get pissed off, and went home. It wasn’t my smartest move, but it was the one I did.

No excuses for it at all, just sometimes an extra explanation is worthwhile.

Hey Ho.