Cycling ... and the art of forgetting

Have you ever done this? You're maybe about a third of your way along your commute. You stop at a set of lights. You reach down instinctively to take a pull on your water bottle. Shock. Horror. The water bottle's not there. Then suddenly a very clear flash enters your brain - you can picture it exactly - it's on the chest of drawers just by the kitchen where you left it so you'd remember it to put onto your bike before you left this morning.

The water bottle is something of a comfort blanket and gives me something to do when I'm at a long set of lights. Oh, and you need water to survive, of course.

Then I started thinking - what else have I forgotten in the past? Well, pretty much everything. I've certainly forgotten my helmet. (And usually cycled back home to get it). I'm someone who gets changed at work - and, without going into sordid details, have, on different occasions, forgotten: a sock, socks, underpants, trousers ... and all my clothes. I've left my lunch in the fridge at home, and on the kitchen counter. I've never forgotten my bike - that would be silly. A bit Pythonesque in fact.

My suspicion is that on any given day there are hundreds of lunch boxes and sandwich packs languishing in home fridges all over London which should be at work. There are hundreds of members of our great city's workforce without underwear, or at least a sock, or tights. Have a look around. Is that person really wearing cycling shoes instead of work ones?

Give them a break. It's not easy being completely organised day in day out. I always think getting ready for a day's commuting on the bike is like packing for a weekend away.