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So apparently we had a calm night last night. No details about this calm night in London because everyone is focused entirely on Birmingham, Wolverhampton, Manchester and every other city that had riots erupting in it last night, but that's what the news says. I ... would like to hear more about this quiet night, I have to admit. I would like to hear more about these 'minor skirmishes' that happened when most of the people who would and should have been tweeting about this stuff were asked to be on lockdown. I'm also not totally relaxing yet; one of the comments I read about last night's quiet brought up a good point about how those who participated particularly in Monday night's events will have to sleep off their hangovers before they get their heads around anything else. I also want to know why these 'minor skirmishes' have had sirens going off a couple of times last night (though nowhere near as bad as Monday, I admit), and why there's still a low-flying helicopter buzzing my neighbourhood. I suppose that last is cops or news or both still keeping an eye. I wish it made me feel safe instead of besieged. Still, there isn't any point in stressing about it.
Yesterday afternoon was pretty atrocious though - not in that I saw any rioting or looting, but in the preparations for it. I nerved myself up to go pick up a couple of things I needed (cooking oil, butter, salt, coffee) and something treatlike; I wanted to order Chinese food but decided that I felt bad enough when I ordered in during a near-monsoon and I'd die of guilt if I asked some poor sod to risk getting mugged or worse just to bring me dinner. Unfortunately, almost everything in my immediate neighbourhood was shut at 3pm, and the few things that were open when I went out just before 4pm didn't intend on staying open long. Everyplace that had steel shutters for their doors and windows (most of them, in my area) were using them, whether the shop was actually shut or not.
The mood was ... well, my downstairs neighbour was panicking; she heard me come out of my flat in preparation to go out and actually stopped me in the foyer to say, "You shouldn't go out there! It's crazy out there! You be careful, okay?" I responded by telling her that I was pretty sure it was safe for now, that I'd be careful and then offered to pick her up anything if she needed it and didn't want to leave the house. She didn't, but she thanked me. This is in a city where most people, if forced to interact with their neighbours at all, murmur vague greetings and don't make eye contact.
Actually, one's more likely to have a conversation with someone in the supermarket/off-licence queue. The bigger local offie was one of the few places that was still open when I finally got outside (so much for steak for dinner, then; thankfully, I had other plans) and while I didn't participate in much of the conversation, I overheard a lot. Mostly it was, "You're closing soon? Do you think we're going to get riots on this street? They trashed bits of West Norwood just down the road, innit?" To be fair, a lot of people weren't actually even shopping that I saw; maybe they just wanted someone to talk to, a place to gather that wasn't home at least for a little while, and all the pubs were shut, so that was all they had. I also saw more cars on the street than I have in quite some time, the buses were emptier and almost no one was walking. The difference between this London and the London that got attacked by suicide bombers a few years ago was staggering. Suffice to say that I got my necessaries but my 'treat' consisted of a bottle of cola, a bottle of raspberry Bacardi Breezer and a bag of somewhat sub-par tortilla chips. Woe.
As for me? The headache has not gone away. I guess sirens at 2am and an afternoon/evening of stress will do that to a migraine sufferer, and it was bad enough on Monday. I think it's dying down a bit, though, so hopefully I'll be in some kind of fit state to go back to work on Thursday. It's an outright pain in the arse, this, but I suppose at least my office manager can't really help but understand this one. She's also migraine prone and these are pretty extreme extenuating circumstances. Not that she's ever not been understanding when I've had to take leave because of head-wrong (for which I profusely thank her) but I always feel bad about it and I'm trying not to because it frankly doesn't help. So I take deep breaths and remember: noise plus stress equals pretty debilitating migraine headache and riots tend to be full of both. It is not a thing one can help.
So! Right! The heavy painkillers and going semi-comatose in front of something DVD-ish just to keep me company it is. Also hiding from the evil daystar. If I feel better later, I may pop up to Brixton just to see what it looks like after this mess. I'm pretty sure it survived, though; Brixton's tough. But frankly, I don't see myself moving 'til tomorrow morning - not out of fear but because this fucking migraine makes daylight painful and I'm not stupid enough to go out after dark even if it is the only time I can take a walk when it gets like this.
I'll be better tomorrow. I hope London is the same.
Yesterday afternoon was pretty atrocious though - not in that I saw any rioting or looting, but in the preparations for it. I nerved myself up to go pick up a couple of things I needed (cooking oil, butter, salt, coffee) and something treatlike; I wanted to order Chinese food but decided that I felt bad enough when I ordered in during a near-monsoon and I'd die of guilt if I asked some poor sod to risk getting mugged or worse just to bring me dinner. Unfortunately, almost everything in my immediate neighbourhood was shut at 3pm, and the few things that were open when I went out just before 4pm didn't intend on staying open long. Everyplace that had steel shutters for their doors and windows (most of them, in my area) were using them, whether the shop was actually shut or not.
The mood was ... well, my downstairs neighbour was panicking; she heard me come out of my flat in preparation to go out and actually stopped me in the foyer to say, "You shouldn't go out there! It's crazy out there! You be careful, okay?" I responded by telling her that I was pretty sure it was safe for now, that I'd be careful and then offered to pick her up anything if she needed it and didn't want to leave the house. She didn't, but she thanked me. This is in a city where most people, if forced to interact with their neighbours at all, murmur vague greetings and don't make eye contact.
Actually, one's more likely to have a conversation with someone in the supermarket/off-licence queue. The bigger local offie was one of the few places that was still open when I finally got outside (so much for steak for dinner, then; thankfully, I had other plans) and while I didn't participate in much of the conversation, I overheard a lot. Mostly it was, "You're closing soon? Do you think we're going to get riots on this street? They trashed bits of West Norwood just down the road, innit?" To be fair, a lot of people weren't actually even shopping that I saw; maybe they just wanted someone to talk to, a place to gather that wasn't home at least for a little while, and all the pubs were shut, so that was all they had. I also saw more cars on the street than I have in quite some time, the buses were emptier and almost no one was walking. The difference between this London and the London that got attacked by suicide bombers a few years ago was staggering. Suffice to say that I got my necessaries but my 'treat' consisted of a bottle of cola, a bottle of raspberry Bacardi Breezer and a bag of somewhat sub-par tortilla chips. Woe.
As for me? The headache has not gone away. I guess sirens at 2am and an afternoon/evening of stress will do that to a migraine sufferer, and it was bad enough on Monday. I think it's dying down a bit, though, so hopefully I'll be in some kind of fit state to go back to work on Thursday. It's an outright pain in the arse, this, but I suppose at least my office manager can't really help but understand this one. She's also migraine prone and these are pretty extreme extenuating circumstances. Not that she's ever not been understanding when I've had to take leave because of head-wrong (for which I profusely thank her) but I always feel bad about it and I'm trying not to because it frankly doesn't help. So I take deep breaths and remember: noise plus stress equals pretty debilitating migraine headache and riots tend to be full of both. It is not a thing one can help.
So! Right! The heavy painkillers and going semi-comatose in front of something DVD-ish just to keep me company it is. Also hiding from the evil daystar. If I feel better later, I may pop up to Brixton just to see what it looks like after this mess. I'm pretty sure it survived, though; Brixton's tough. But frankly, I don't see myself moving 'til tomorrow morning - not out of fear but because this fucking migraine makes daylight painful and I'm not stupid enough to go out after dark even if it is the only time I can take a walk when it gets like this.
I'll be better tomorrow. I hope London is the same.