Bloody Bike

Had Drama with the Ninja today. Flippin thing.
Had the start of a lovely ride back from The Arse End of Nowhere where the fella lives. (Not actually entirely sure where it is, but TomTom knows the way...) Nice twisty roads, hardly any traffic, sunshine, Wagner on the earphones. Sorted. Then the petrol light comes on. This is not a problem in itself when I don't know where I am as with the push of a few buttons, TomTom will find me a garage. (I'd be lost without that thing! Truly, I would) What was a problem was when I got to the garage, tried to put the side stand down and discovered it wouldn't go because the fairing lower was hanging off. Rotten thing! Turns out the bolt had vibrated itself out. Thanks to a very nice lady on a Fireblade I got it succesully bodged back together with a hairband! Talk about the girliest roadside repair job ever... Well, it got me to a Halfords where after much faffing around I got a new bolt and put it back together properly so I could get back to London.
And then guess what. TomTom has a temper tantrum and won't switch on. Granted, the poor little thing is coming up for 5 years old...but seriously? It's never let me down before and I swear by it. (mainly because I can't figure out how to make a Garmin work) I haven't ever bothered updating it or getting a newer model because I'm very much of the "If it aint broke, don't fix it" ilk. However it now seems I'm in trouble. Fortunatly, All Roads Lead To London. So I got home safe and sound. Only to discover that I have developed a tummy ache because my two-weeks-bloody-late 'ladytime' has started. Bollocks. Well that screws up my afternoon out on the bike. If anyone wants me I shall be curled up in the corner in my pyjamas with a bar of Galaxy and Mister Charles Dickens. Sulking.