If you've booked one of them Apex tickets from London back to Cornwall that means you have to get that exact train and none other, make sure you actually look at the time of your train back rather than assuming you booked it for ten thirtyish. Otherwise, you might get out of bed at eight thirty, and then discover that your train departs at... eight thirty.
This will lead to a sudden realization that you'll have to buy another ticket from London to Cornwall for seventy-odd quid, which will in turn lead to you jumping up and down shouting 'fucking fuckety fucking fucking fucking fucking fuck.'
Lots of other stuff happened in my London trip, all of which was marvellous, but I'm still recovering from the ticket thing at the moment. The sheer biteyness of the impact on my finances can be assessed from this conversation with my financial advisor about three days previous:
F.A.: So how are the finances then?
ME: Well, I'm currently about three grand overdrawn*.
F.A.: Hmm. Any thoughts about investing in property in Estonia?
ME: Um.. 'argh' and 'no'?
Random conversational snippet overheard in Big Comic Shop I Won't Name:
Female Member of Staff: (back in the storeroom, and presumably not realising the door is open) God it stinks out there. Has anyone got any Customer Spray?
* UPDATE: There's nothing more annoying than someone with what most people would consider to be basically a dream job complaining that it doesn't pay enough. So I should probably say that I'm waiting for some GW money to come through, and a few other odds and sods - basically it's the boring old self-employed/cash flow problem, where you find yourself in a bit of a trough every now and then. According to my whiteboard however, I'm doing fine. Just waiting for reality to catch up with the theory. And for people to actually get back from Bank Holiday Weekends and, you know, pay me...