Whilst walking to the bus I witnessed a man picking his nose with a key. Never have my eyes been privy to a more exquisite site. It just about made my day.
Here I am at the station after a morning of passive smoking, coughing like a fish out of water and trying to tame the unruly hairs on my head.
Oh and I stupidly decided to let gray c run around while I ate breakfast. In protest to being inside all day she decided it would be amusing to squeeze herself under the sofa and hide out in this modern warren so as to prevent being popped back into her bed.
After shouting, begging, pretending to cry and leaving her to it while I ate my cornflakes, she eventually came out. I was tempted to just leave her there but I knew I’d come home to no sofa. And seeing as I can’t afford a bar stool I’m unlikely to be able to reimburse my parents for the sofa.
This rodent tomfoolery made me considerably later than I wanted to be. I missed two buses but despite much reasoning, rabbits just don’t understand how public transport works. It waits for no man or rabbit lady as the case may be.
Well this journey is horrific. I am currently unable to move my head, it’s ducked down and my neck is cramping.
But why? Why Rebecca are you so uncomfortable. I’ll tell you why. There is a mans arm holding onto the bar next to me. Infact there are two arms, I can’t see the perpetrators on account of my cowed state. I just know they belong to male bodies due to the suit buttons and copious arm hair. If I even raise my head slightly I hit this limbo bar of an arm. No one wants to lean on a stranger. My hair that was messy To begin with, now resembles a hay stack. I’m on the wrong side of his arm really, this is awful.
The only comfort pacifying me was head automatica but now Abba are belting out ‘take a chance on me’ and it’s having the same affect as that creepy clown music in insidious!
I have 6 more minutes of this hell left to endure.
No, Jonas brothers I’m really not in the right mood for you whining.
Why do Victoria do this to me? Keep those tube gates open please, I have a strict timing schedule to stick to!
Open sesame! I have a mammoth walk please, hurry up!
I think it’s safe to say that those rose tinted spectacles I wore on my commute yesterday are safely off know.
People stink. Literally and metaphorically. Transport for london is a sham and i’m going to be late.
Still on this flipping tube. Not amused. I’m going to have to leg it to the tiger press and rock up looking like a fried tomato!
3 stops left before mine. Come on district line, skip a few no one will mind.
There’s a kid on here will a fully face painted face. It’s 9:51, who has time for that in the morning? She is also about four yet she has a push chair, unless she’s a very tall 3 year old? Anything
is possible. But she has all her teeth and appears fully mobile. Odd.
This is horrendous. I didn’t want to be late!
I have a arrived. Sweaty and red in he face from running all the way here but no one really seemed to care. Phew.
Lunch. Sun, food and a man eating al fresco on the pavement on a fold out chair.
With my face in my bagel, a glance at a passing shop window reminds me that it’s mother days on sunday and I don’t have a present.
Feeling a bit ill this eve. My neck aches, perhaps from stooping on my morning commute. My legs feel like jelly. I think my blood sugars are low.
On the tube I watched a man practically rape a chocolate croissant, some people shouldn’t be allowed to eat in public. Mind you maybe in future I shouldn’t watch.
Home! Inhaling my food before Zumba now this could be a recipe for disaster.
One thing I have learnt is this job malarkey doesn’t leave you much free time.