So, I should have ticked 'skydiving' off my list by now if everything had gone to plan. But, erm, it didn't. I hadn't considered the fact that the darn weather might have played havoc with our attempt.
So we turned up at the airfield at nine, thinking we were doing pretty well to get there so early. Some people had been there since six, so we were already last in the queue.
Oh well, we thought - we'll still jump at about three or four o'clock - fine.
One plane load went up. We watched how high they went and my heart started thumping - the plane was a speck in the sky - properly high. Then the wind started. And didn't stop. We also had some rain, just so we could no longer even be sitting outside. We watched daytime telly, and drank too much tea. We got trained at one point, which got our hopes up a lot, but then it soon became obvious that there just wasn't enough time to fit us in even if the weather had got better immediately.
So, with heavy hearts we made our way back to London to our waiting work colleagues who had all come out to celebrate with us. It was a bit like a scene from a bad soap plot where someone has a surprise party thrown for them and then reveals they've failed their driving test/exams/pregnancy test/whatever. "Take off the party hats, lads!"
We're hoping to re-book for next week, but I will let you know AFTER I have done it this time.