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(Whey I say 'this morning' I mean yesterday, Thursday. I wrote this then sent it to myself for posting, then forgot about it.)
You know what’s annoying? When someone who’s paid to help tells blatant lies.
OK. I went out last night – to church, which anyone who knows me will find somewhat perplexing – and when I left I was nicely calm and centred. On the way home, however, I became aware that I had the worst headweasels for a long time – I was convinced that Smokey would be dead when I got home. No idea where that came from, except that I’d become overtired by spending a day at work, then going for drinks (involving walking to the pub) then going to church (involving walking to the church) then going home on the tube (involving walking to Westminster tube). By the time I got home I was totally exhausted. So, headweasels.
And my feet were killing me. There was much pain; my plantar fasciitis is still causing me grief.
She wasn’t dead. In fact she was better than she’s been for quite a few days, and even had some kittenish playtime, which she hasn’t wanted for days. She was much improved, really, and ate her tea with gusto. I checked her litterbox and that was well used so that’s improved too. (I know, TMI about the cat’s litterbox.)
So this morning I get up, get ready to go to work, knowing that it’s going to be hard on my feet. And what happens? Signal failure at Tower Hill. The District and Circle line is not running clockwise. I get to Liverpool Street (I would normally change at Mile End) and it’s still b0rked and the anti-clockwise District and Circle line is rammed with folk. So I think, OK, I’ll get the number 11 bus which goes down Ludgate Hill and along Fleet Street, Strand and Whitehall.
I go out into Liverpool Street station and ask at the “Information” booth where the number 11 bus goes from (because its normal stop is shut due to building work) and am clearly told that its normal stop is operating again. But they lie. It’s not.
Thus I have to look at TFL’s (incorrect) map and find the number 11 stop, which turns out to be stop “U” on London Wall, next to what they describe as Broad Street, but is actually called Old Broad Street. These minor points can make a big difference in London.
I walk, with my painful feet, to London Wall, and eventually catch the number 11 bus to work. It takes ages, but is scenic.
So far, that’s been the highlight of my day. Well, Smokey being better is really the highlight of my day.
MPREG follows me around
I was sitting in a cafe having brunch when a comparative silence fell, and just as it did so a woman sitting on the next table says, "I think he's pregnant!" into the lull.
Just thought I'd share that with you. I have no idea what she meant, the rest of their conversation was drowned out by that of other diners.
You know what’s annoying? When someone who’s paid to help tells blatant lies.
OK. I went out last night – to church, which anyone who knows me will find somewhat perplexing – and when I left I was nicely calm and centred. On the way home, however, I became aware that I had the worst headweasels for a long time – I was convinced that Smokey would be dead when I got home. No idea where that came from, except that I’d become overtired by spending a day at work, then going for drinks (involving walking to the pub) then going to church (involving walking to the church) then going home on the tube (involving walking to Westminster tube). By the time I got home I was totally exhausted. So, headweasels.
And my feet were killing me. There was much pain; my plantar fasciitis is still causing me grief.
She wasn’t dead. In fact she was better than she’s been for quite a few days, and even had some kittenish playtime, which she hasn’t wanted for days. She was much improved, really, and ate her tea with gusto. I checked her litterbox and that was well used so that’s improved too. (I know, TMI about the cat’s litterbox.)
So this morning I get up, get ready to go to work, knowing that it’s going to be hard on my feet. And what happens? Signal failure at Tower Hill. The District and Circle line is not running clockwise. I get to Liverpool Street (I would normally change at Mile End) and it’s still b0rked and the anti-clockwise District and Circle line is rammed with folk. So I think, OK, I’ll get the number 11 bus which goes down Ludgate Hill and along Fleet Street, Strand and Whitehall.
I go out into Liverpool Street station and ask at the “Information” booth where the number 11 bus goes from (because its normal stop is shut due to building work) and am clearly told that its normal stop is operating again. But they lie. It’s not.
Thus I have to look at TFL’s (incorrect) map and find the number 11 stop, which turns out to be stop “U” on London Wall, next to what they describe as Broad Street, but is actually called Old Broad Street. These minor points can make a big difference in London.
I walk, with my painful feet, to London Wall, and eventually catch the number 11 bus to work. It takes ages, but is scenic.
So far, that’s been the highlight of my day. Well, Smokey being better is really the highlight of my day.
MPREG follows me around
I was sitting in a cafe having brunch when a comparative silence fell, and just as it did so a woman sitting on the next table says, "I think he's pregnant!" into the lull.
Just thought I'd share that with you. I have no idea what she meant, the rest of their conversation was drowned out by that of other diners.
Tags:
- annoyances,
- me,
- mpreg,
- travel,
- work
no subject
Well, these days trans men having babies is becoming more common...
no subject