I left a bag with everything in it on platform three at York station. Imagine my disappointment. I was on a direct train to London, finishing the puzzle I’d been doing on my phone as I’d boarded the train, so absorbed that I’d left half my luggage – the important half – behind. My Sunday was in tatters.
I’d had such a nice day planned – a nice lunchtime train journey, after a nice morning with family and friends in York, leaving plenty of time to get home to watch the England match. But it wasn’t to be. It rarely is. For this is my special power – common to many people with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder – forever finding ways of turning leisure time, in this case a relaxing afternoon, into a nerve-shredding orgy of panic.
