Inauspicious
Nov. 17th, 2005 11:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thessalianWoke up this morning with the backache from Hades. I could barely move, and woke ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dodgyhoodoo up for the first time this week. He gave me a back rub, which was nice of him but didn't help matters all that much. Muscles + tension + cold = pain. I managed to haul myself out of bed, make lunch and go to work anyway, because James is not in and there's no cover.
When I finally hobbled out of the house, I noticed that the traffic headed towards Finchley Central was backed up right the way to Tally Ho Corner and beyond, so the 82, 460 or 125 to Finchley Central was out of the question. Under ordinary circumstances, I would simply have walked to the station, but there was still backache from Hades, so I thought "bugger this; I'll just take the 125 out to Southgate and catch the Piccadilly Line to Holborn instead". So I stood at the bus stop and waited. And waited. And waited. The traffic was moving north from Finchley Central, but I waited nearly 20 minutes and there was no 125.
Eventually, I sucked it up and got on a 221 for Bounds Green. Of course, I hadn't realised how bad the traffic was at certain points along that route. My particular favourite bit was trying to get across the North Circular, which is never fun at the best of times. So eventually, I get to Bounds Green station and ... Ooh, there's one of those free-standing whiteboard sign things telling me that there are 'minor delays' on the Piccadilly Line. Oh, joy. By this time it's nearly 9:40 and I have resigned myself for being late to work, but there's no real alternative but to get onto the damn platform and hope for the best.
Ten minutes later, Tube turns up. Of course, I don't get a seat right away, but since it's a Piccadilly Line train, there's that padded shelf bit where people can perch next to a couple of the exit doors, so I head for that, stand right in front of it and turn sideways facing the other seats so I can take my rucksack off and at least half-sit. However, when I stepped back to put my bag on the floor, I ran right into this utter bitch of a commuter lady who'd taken my spot while I was settling into it. She made no move to shift herself when I tried to turn around, either; just gave me this "Well, what are you doing here?" look and shifted over to take up more space and crowd me out completely. It worked out better for me in the end, I suppose, since I got a seat when the train stopped at Finsbury Park, but it's the principle of the thing.
And today's the day the Affils proofs should be coming in. I'm wondering if this morning's mess was to establish the day's pattern, in which case it is going to suck, or to use up my day's supply of suck early, in which case it will be fine. Meep.
dodgyhoodoo up for the first time this week. He gave me a back rub, which was nice of him but didn't help matters all that much. Muscles + tension + cold = pain. I managed to haul myself out of bed, make lunch and go to work anyway, because James is not in and there's no cover.When I finally hobbled out of the house, I noticed that the traffic headed towards Finchley Central was backed up right the way to Tally Ho Corner and beyond, so the 82, 460 or 125 to Finchley Central was out of the question. Under ordinary circumstances, I would simply have walked to the station, but there was still backache from Hades, so I thought "bugger this; I'll just take the 125 out to Southgate and catch the Piccadilly Line to Holborn instead". So I stood at the bus stop and waited. And waited. And waited. The traffic was moving north from Finchley Central, but I waited nearly 20 minutes and there was no 125.
Eventually, I sucked it up and got on a 221 for Bounds Green. Of course, I hadn't realised how bad the traffic was at certain points along that route. My particular favourite bit was trying to get across the North Circular, which is never fun at the best of times. So eventually, I get to Bounds Green station and ... Ooh, there's one of those free-standing whiteboard sign things telling me that there are 'minor delays' on the Piccadilly Line. Oh, joy. By this time it's nearly 9:40 and I have resigned myself for being late to work, but there's no real alternative but to get onto the damn platform and hope for the best.
Ten minutes later, Tube turns up. Of course, I don't get a seat right away, but since it's a Piccadilly Line train, there's that padded shelf bit where people can perch next to a couple of the exit doors, so I head for that, stand right in front of it and turn sideways facing the other seats so I can take my rucksack off and at least half-sit. However, when I stepped back to put my bag on the floor, I ran right into this utter bitch of a commuter lady who'd taken my spot while I was settling into it. She made no move to shift herself when I tried to turn around, either; just gave me this "Well, what are you doing here?" look and shifted over to take up more space and crowd me out completely. It worked out better for me in the end, I suppose, since I got a seat when the train stopped at Finsbury Park, but it's the principle of the thing.
And today's the day the Affils proofs should be coming in. I'm wondering if this morning's mess was to establish the day's pattern, in which case it is going to suck, or to use up my day's supply of suck early, in which case it will be fine. Meep.