Monday, November 20, 2006

AM: this morning my alarm goes off and within two minutes my Skype is ringing from China (I didn’t even realise Skype phones rang). It seems Mavis is really up for testing her English even further. So much that she begins to ring me again as soon as I explain I have only just woken up. Things only improve when I notice that I have woken up with a Flock Of Seagulls hairstyle.

I am very much on the drag as I finally, eventually venture out this morning. This morning is a dark, gloomy Monday morning, chilled but fortunately not frozen. I am made to be miserable by this weather. Arriving on the platform a crowd of people are surrounding the display screen and it seems the trains are screwed up yet again. Strangely however my train seems unaffected.

It being Monday I find myself half expecting a journey of Breakfast Club with Chris but he isn’t on the platform when I arrive. I kick into listening to my iPod and as I reach “The Basement” by Pete Rock and CL Smooth I feel a tap on my shoulder and it’s Chris. Our train arrives slightly late and is then severely late in leaving the station. As we wait, the time passes 7.07 and the Stone Cold Muslim gets on the train, this morning with her hair up looking as amazing as ever. I am pathetic. The train ride is a pretty good way to start a Monday morning even though it is delayed by 45 fucking minutes! Even though I am zonked and distracted, it’s cool to hook up with Chris and even though I suspect I semi-boring (I certainly bore myself) time actually passes swiftly.

Upon arriving at Stratford I overhear the news that the Central Line is out between Leytonstone and White City, does the Central Line actually go any further than those stations? And then stepping through the gates at Liverpool Street, the tube barriers are genuine bedlam. I hope aboard a fairly quiet/relaxed Circle Line train before getting off at Baker Street and waiting eight minutes for the next Hammersmith train. And when it arrives it is a genuine cattle track. Somehow I manage to squeeze on but the person behind me, shoving me, doesn’t appear to accomplish the same feat as they give up and reconvene on the platform, waiting for the next train. I spend the remainder of the journey pinned to the door of the train whilst surrounded by people that sickly smell of glue. When the train stops at Royal Oak a sneaky, cheeky fucking girl quickly nabs some of my space and as we pull up in Westbourne Park I pretty much spill out of the train and fall out onto the platform. I put up with this shit for one remaining stop before God relieves me with Ladbroke Grove station.

By now it is past 9.30, the official starting time to my working day and I begin to worry about the company car I parked last week and whether it got ticketed. Shortly after arriving at work, I find out that it did.

PM: today is a tough day to contend with after the hellish public transport induced start. The day flies by as I accomplish worryingly next to nothing. For lunch I have microwave jacket potato before finding myself wandering over to an ex-employer’s website (Wood & Disney) which is really impressive and nostalgic all at the same time.

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