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From: Reg
Category: Other stuff
Date: 03 July 2004
At 815 am I jumped out of bed with urgency. Slopped down the stairs and ran my bath. I swiftly made tea and got in the bath to eat my cereal – carelessly spilling milk down my leg in my haste to dress and leave the house. Thoughtfully I put my trainers on knowing that a speedy journey across the green was imminent, flip flops just wouldn’t help the race to the train. I recalled my brief flirtation with long distance running and other out door competitive activities as I crossed the track. I reached the platform and felt pleased when the train arrived with seats free, remembering the portentous preaching of my superior ‘there will be no seats oh young one, beware!’. Within a few train station stops the pressure was mounting as the train filled up, disappointed travellers unable to squeeze on stood dejected at the platform's edge watching us roll away. At Gospel Oak I burst out and hurried my way to the next platform along with all the other hurriers. Expectant people looked around, territories were guarded and a train arrived. As the people crammed on I thought of the bubble wrap I stuff in to boxes at work each day, and people’s lungs and stomachs being squashed together, thinking about packing them more tightly to secure them in their boxes. I failed to compress my self in to a tight packet, and like those I’d seen before I sadly watched the train chug off. Feeling less pleased with my self I realised that I would be LATE FOR WORK, horror of horrors, dreadful things would become of me, a wanton worker irreverent and generally bad. Collapse and disruption, the world brought to its bleeding knees. Suffering to colleagues. Thus determined I made it to Kensal Rise on the next west bound vessel. At the bus stop I enjoyed a coffee and croissant, rejoicing like a school adolescent at a repressive public school getting a snatch of freedom. I enjoyed looking in the window of the next door shop. Children’s toys, one open packet of biscuits and other useful things. The bus arrived to take me away deliver me and shut me up in a building out of mischief’s way. All the fun was over. The underground still underpaid. The good commuters of London complaining. And boredom still looming gloomily over my head.
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