Oh god, the morning commute today. What time is it? Ha, only the 1st one of my 5 alarms. Snooze. Snooze… Snooze!! Snooze. Okay, can’t snooze now.
Please let the loo be free, please, please. Oh man. I’ll get my tea on then. My god, it’s freezing downstairs – is the radiator even on? Hm, apparently it is.
Shall I turn my podcast on? I’m not sure if I am awake enough to process politics at the moment. My morning commute involves far more violence than the news does. No, not now.
I just hate waiting for the kettle to finish, it’s time I could have used to…sleep. Never mind, I’ll spend that minute and a half just staring at that kettle.
Why? How is my family awake, loud, obnoxious and dancing? Just watching it is draining me of the very little energy that I have left. I mean who has the energy before a coffee? Please. Just leave me alone. Let me mourn the start of a new day. A workday.
I think brushing my teeth is taking me longer than it should, why is this a daily morning commute thing? I swear there is an optimum amount of time you’re supposed to spend brushing your teeth. But if I look it up, I can never unlearn it. So, when I don’t measure up, I’ll feel guilty about it every morning but not actually do anything about it. I’ll leave it be. Ignorance is bliss. My teeth are fine. I’ve had braces, they went through their radical alteration when I was a kid. I am done. I’ll maintain them but I am done reaching for new heights…er when it comes to my teeth. That sounds dramatic.
Argh so cold. Argghhh so hot! How we still have separate faucets for hot water and cold water I’ll never know. This is an old house. The British and their stupid history. Canada sounds good right about now. Although, moving to Canada for the right tap sounds a bit extreme. Ouch burned myself. No, it’s not extreme. Fuck this faucet.
At least the extreme temperatures you throw at your face wake you up better than coffee ever could.
Let me just put my clothes on the radiator so it feels nice when putting them on. It’s the small things to make the morning easier. Did I wear this hoodie yesterday? I did. Just this one time, who notices this stuff anyway unless I have a Regina George in my office? Plus I doubt anyone pays attention to me during the morning commute. Need to watch mean girls again.
Okay hair, work with me here. No unicorn hair sticking out today, please. Stay down. Down. And thus it flicks up fiercer than ever. A beanie it is. That’s better. Thank God it’s winter. I’ll just avoid the mirrors when I get into the office.
Warmth embrace me – yep radiated clothes are worth it. Next best thing – battery heated clothes. I mean you have heated gloves and all that but full-on clothes? Er – million-dollar idea. It’s probably already out there. Is any idea we create from here on out even still original? Somewhere, someone sometime has had this thought before. Especially heated clothing every time winter comes around.
Oh, my unique morning commute involves me loading yesterday’s mainstream trash pop music onto my phone. I think I’ll never truly figure out how to use iTunes. Remember the days when you’d just have a folder for music on your smartphone and it was just a matter of copying and pasting? No software, no upgrades, no nothing. Those were the days. Done.
Headphones – check. Travelcard – check. Lunch…lunch! Ah god. When’s my bus, let me check the app. 8 minutes. I need 5 to walk down. Can I make a sandwich in 3 minutes? Errrr. Okay, let’s do it. My morning commute involves last minute rushes.
Bread, butter. Oh god do we not have anything else? No cheese? Fine, bread and butter it is. Wow, that’s going to get squashed in the bag. Eh, tastes the same. Let’s get out of here.
So, cold. Reminds me of Demi Lovato’s song called ‘Stone cold’. Great song. Mum always forgets and calls it ‘cold stone’. Yeah, mum, she’s singing about a cold stone.
Out and about
Lock up and let’s check when the bus is in – 4 minutes! Guess I need to powerwalk it. Goddamn, so many people at the bus stop today. All familiar faces.
I am curious. Do they ever wonder like I do when a regular fellow commuter hasn’t been around, in a while? Because I do. I miss – strict looking, tall pony-tail lady who wears summer clothes during the winter – when she’s not there. Hope she’s okay.
Delayed bus. Of bloody course. What’s the point in timetables? What’s the point in time as a concept at all if society doesn’t bother keeping to it? Here it is now. Let’s get in.
Why lean on the handrail? Squash my fingers? Do you not feel the squashing of 4 hands right now? Or do you just not care? Okay, let me pull it out of her iron back. Shall I just rip it out so she notices or just very slowly so she doesn’t? Of course, it’s the first one, we are a passive-aggressive lot us Londoners. Here we go. 1…2…3! Oh, she turned around. I just give her a blank look – I am not one for evils. Can’t pull it off.
And tada, she stops leaning on it. Look, I am getting appreciative smiles all around. Good deed for the day? Check. Passive aggression? – check. Good deed neutralised as a result? check.
Why do fully-fledged adults put their bags on seats when it’s crowded? You are a fucking adult. Know better. Be an example.
Get your ass further down the bus please. Unless of course, I am the one who has to move down. I’ll do it, but I won’t be happy about it. It just makes getting off a whole other challenge.
Hello, Transport for London. Okay when’s my train? Delayed – gives me a chance of getting it. Or I would if the bus driver didn’t just roll down the street because of gravity but actually pressed the accelerator from time to time. If I knew you were going to drive like this, I’d have gotten off earlier and taken a tram.
I’ll have to run for it. Ninja mode – ON. Run, running, turn, turn, swerving and – yes the train doors are still open, jumped in. Safe! I wonder how awkward that launch looked.
No seats. Kay, let’s get the best awkward eye contact avoider – a book. Man, I really need to get a bookmark, I spend 5 minutes every day trying to find out where I left off, assuming each and every single time I’ll remember the page number. Which I never do. I think it was like a double number. Was it 55? Or 77?
I think I read this. No, I didn’t read this part. Good. Oh, wait I actually did. How did it take me a whole page to realise that I did, in fact, read it? Do I read it at all? Or do I just skim it? At least I’m not getting tested on it.
Love London bridge but that shit gets so busy. Can’t look very far ahead because I am such a short ass. Short steps. Can I overtake? I’d really rather not fall onto the rails. Let’s risk it. Uff, heart attack. That was too close for comfort. Slow walk it is. How awesome would it be if you could tailgate pedestrians? But that’s literally what walking in London is. Walking too close to one another and breaching that personal space.
Which ticket barrier – okay no one is there. Next bus is due. Go for another run? Okay. I am beyond unfit. This is not okay. Upstairs or down? Up, at the front – that’s where the best view is at. Not like I catch much wind of it, spend most of my time on my phone anyway. Now that’s how you drive a bus. This driver could go places if he didn’t choose to drive in one of the most congested places ever.
Next stop is mine. Let’s get out of here.
Nice, it’s a bit warmer now. It always feels like it’s a shorter walk than it really is. Ha that one traffic light that’s red for pedestrians like all the time and manages to build a congestion of pedestrians all by itself. Only the law-abiding ones. Here’s how you cross at a red-light people.
Okay, where’s my key card? All the way at the bottom of my bag. Scoop it out, *beep*, hi security guard. Today it’s a non-verbal nod. Nod returned my friend. Here’s to a Monday morning sneak in after a 10-minute late start. Crap, my boss has seen me. Don’t look at your watch, don’t! Okay fine, look at your bloody watch. You know I’m late. I know I’m late. I’ll do better on tomorrow’s morning commute.