It's not. It's at least ten minutes longer because of the hills and the wind and the bit of my brain that wonders what will happen if I cut through this alleyway.
In short, it took me nearly 90 minutes to walk home. I peeled off my rucksack, coat and scarf and microwaved some dinner. I had ten minutes before I had to leave again. This, I thought as I wolfed it down, is the margin where the gap between my activity and my maximum capacity is so small that I'm one tiny crisis away from despair.
I'm OK though, don't be panicking. In and of myself I am balanced and reasonable. I can't feel my legs and my back is sore, but inside I'm doing OK.
'OK'. Funny little two letters. I've seen a few people spell it 'okay' recently. Both are fine I'm sure, I'm just not sure which one I prefer. No one knows for certain how we started using this word but it's slipped copacetically into the language somehow. I use it a lot.
For reasons I don't have time to explain I had to write the word 'barbecue' today and I deliberately stopped myself using BBQ, which I think we established, stands for absolutely nothing. So, why is 'OK' acceptable to me? I think it's just laziness on my part.
I like 'okay' though. It works well for dialogue. For similar reasons I've always liked a 'wotcher' in print, and especially in real life.
My feet are the size of two large dinghies, resting on the sofa. As I reminded myself several times on the road today, I will definitely sleep well tonight. And I'm quite sure I'll be driving tomorrow, which will be just that little bit better than okay with me.
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