Firstly, I will write a money post soon. I promise. With the Budget later, I’m sure there’ll be plenty to talk about. But this morning I wanted to tell you about yesterday, because it made me laugh - and there’s something quite reassuring about finding someone who makes you feel a little less weird.

I was meant to meet my friend for coffee at 9.30am, but she messaged to say she’d slept through her alarm. No problem. We moved it to 11am, which gave me plenty of time to pop into the office and get a bit of work done first. Except the next time I looked at the clock, it was 11am. Oh. So I rushed out of the office, got into my car and, before setting off, messaged her to say I’d be 20 minutes late. 

By the time I arrived, she was sitting at the tiniest little table, chatting to the barista. I went to tap her on the shoulder, then suddenly worried it wasn’t her, so had to inspect her from both sides first. Just casually circling my own friend to check it was definitely her. It was.

One of the reasons I love meeting up with her is that her brain seems to work quite a lot like mine. I can tell her something and, instead of getting that slightly puzzled look, she’ll say, “Oh yeah, I do that.” Honestly, the relief.

I was telling her about a last-minute trip I’d booked to Swanage. I tend to book things last minute. There’s usually a vague idea, a booking confirmation and then a period during which I consider the whole thing sorted. On the morning we were leaving, Luke asked whether I knew where we were going. “Yes,” I said. Because I did. Swanage. South. I’d checked roughly how long it would take. What more did he want?

Well, apparently, quite a bit. When we got into the car and put the address into Waze, a ferry crossing appeared on the route. That was new information. Still, I wasn’t particularly concerned. “It’s fine. We can just pay online.” Luke pointed out that people generally check the route before they leave. Properly check it, apparently. Beyond establishing which end of the country they’re aiming for.

But when I told my friend, she said, “Yeah, I do exactly the same.” Oh my God. Someone else. There is something very comforting about discovering that a thing you do, which someone else finds completely baffling, makes perfect sense to another person. To be fair to Luke, I can see how “I’ve checked where we’re going” might have given him the impression that I had checked where we were going. But I do feel there has been enough evidence over the years for him to ask a follow-up question.

Last year, for example, I booked myself onto two conferences. I thought both were in London. Neither was in London. I discovered this the night before each one, which is apparently when I like to carry out my geographical research. One was only a couple of hours away in the car, so that was manageable. The other was in Manchester. I didn't attend that one.

You’d think this might have prompted me to introduce a few additional checks into my booking process. But no. I still tend to book somewhere at the last minute, pay more than I probably needed to, and leave the finer details until the night before. Things like where we’re actually going. Perhaps Luke has spent years assuming there’s a thorough planning process going on behind the scenes. If so, I’m sorry he’s had to find out like this.

There were clues, though. Years ago, I booked us a brewery tour that involved getting a train and then a bus. Except I hadn’t checked how far the brewery was from the station and, for reasons I still can’t fully explain, booked us onto the National Express. Yes, the coach you might take to the other end of the country. We were going to the other end of the road.

So we paid about £10, climbed aboard, settled into our seats and then got off approximately two minutes later. Everyone looked at us as though we were mad. Which, from their perspective, was fair enough. They were probably heading off on a journey of several hours. We’d barely had time to get comfortable.

The best part is that I’d booked the return journey too. So after the brewery tour, a little tipsy, we got back onto the National Express for our two-minute journey to the station. What can I say? I like to travel in style.

Anyway, this is the sort of thing we were laughing about over coffee. I didn’t feel like I needed to explain myself. She just got it, and we could laugh about it together.

I also told her how, that morning, I’d spotted the light on and the door open in the office next door, so I’d wandered in to say hello to everyone. It’s funny, because I used to be so shy, and now apparently an open door is all the encouragement I need. Although, if they start keeping it closed, I’ll try to take the hint.

She said she wasn’t bothered if people thought she was a bit mad, which was reassuring, because I’m sure plenty think that about me. It was lovely to laugh without overthinking what I’d said. She just gets me. No judgement, just the relief of knowing it’s not just me.

We’ve decided to do something different next time, although I did say I’m surprised neither of us has injured ourselves yet. Last time we met, we were hugging goodbye when a car came straight towards us. Apparently, we’d chosen to say our goodbyes in the road. I hadn’t even realised it was a road.

So I’m looking forward to our next outing. We just need to agree on a time, establish where we’re going and find somewhere to say goodbye that isn’t open to traffic.

I might leave the booking to her. Although, having compared notes, I’m not sure that improves our chances. 🩷