My life is a 1960s screwball comedy and I am Jack Lemmon.

So my journey into work today went like this...

I start the car and do a three point turn. The car stalls. I'm not too bothered, the engine's cold and I'm not paying much attention so it was probably my fault. I restart the car and start to head off to work. After about a mile it cuts out again; I bump start it into life but it's making some worrying noises so I decide to turn back and bike in. Before I can turn round, the car dies with some big clanking sounds coming from the engine. As luck would have it, it dies at a six lane crossroads. So now I'm stranded at the side of the road about a mile and a half from home and about two and a half miles from work. I can't leave the car and go on as it's on double yellows next to a major junction.

I call the AA for a tow and get told it'll be 45 minutes. That's no problem says I, as it's the end of July and a lovely day. It starts to rain. Mister AA arrives and confirms that the car's as dead as I think it is. I'd been planning to get rid of it so I'm not massively annoyed, and I ask for a tow home so I can get my bike and get into work. The rain is now pissing it down.

I quickly sort my stuff out and start pedalling in. The rain is now heavy enough that I'm dodging puddles because they look deeper than the mariana trench. I'm about 2 miles into my journey (so around half way for those that haven't been paying attention) and notice that my front wheel's a flat. Arse. I struggle through the torrential rain to the nearest garage, scrounge up 50p from the bottom of my rucksack and attempt to use the air compressor to sort out the car.

No such luck! New air compressors are designed so that they can't be used with bike valves to stop anyone accidentally overinflating their tyre and emancipating their spleen in the resultant highly unlikely explosion. Of course, while these new valves won't put any air in your tyre, they do open the valve so that any air you had left is gone by the time you realise what's happening. So now my front tyre is completely flat.

At this point, the very friendly garage attendant tells me that he has a footpump. That I can buy for the bargain price of six pounds. MOTHERFUCKERRRRR. So here I am at work. I now have a fully inflated front tyre and a brand new footpump with me to go with the one that's sat in the boot of my car. Oh, and six hours later, my feet still aren't completely dry.