More parking drama. I cracked and drove in today, after coming in on the bus all week (and going home in a taxi courtesy of the company) -- it was raining, cold and I was running late due to bandage-changing duties. The garage across the road was full, so I parked on a bit of pavement next to our garage doors. I'd just sat down at my desk when in came an angry colleague. He'd had the same experience as me, only he'd been stopped by "The Crown Prince of Ruritania" -- our new commissionaire, who wears a very impressive uniform and peaked cap -- and told that the police would be summoned to tow his car away. So he drove round the corner and parked illegally in front of the building.

It's maddeningly petty -- we arrive at between 4.30 and 5pm, and we're not allowed to park in the garage before 6pm, even if there are spaces. Even on a Sunday! The alternative to the park across the road is a street a couple of blocks away, and last time I brought the car in to work that was full as well. And of course there's always Dumbiedykes, the rough-as-guts high-rise estate next door to us. There are always plenty of parking spaces there -- look, take that one next to the burnt-out Fiesta. (There really was a burnt-out Fiesta in the estate car park last time I walked through, it's not just blind prejudice.)