Imaginative play with Fifi
Not an email from a porn spambot, but a supposedly personalised "you bought these, so we think you'd like..." email from Amazon.co.uk. They've really branched out, haven't they?
Bad things happened yesterday on the Piccadilly Line. After a discussion with officemate Sarah about how my motivation for reading had been trailing off, I left the office at 5pm, equipped with The Difference Engine, in my hand and detremined to read it on the way home.
At five forty, after having sat for ten minutes at Leicester Square, I has informed that this train would be stopping at Covent Garden, bitches. So, off I trraipse to get a Westbound line back to Green Park, with the intention of getting a Victoria line up to Krapy Rub Snif.
OK, getting so absorbed in my book on that train that I didn't realise I'd missed my stop until I was pulling out of Hyde Park corner. So off I get at Knightsbridge, with the intention of doubling back again, only to make the realisation that of course all Eastbound Piccadilly Lines are filled to the brim and unnavigable. Bollocks to that, I thought, and went to get the other train.
So, at 6.00, an hour after leaving the museum, I was back in South Kensington station, trying to get a District Line to Victoria, with the intention of tranferring there to the Victoria.
No such luck. The Victoria line platforms were so packed that the crowd went up the escalator and onto the floor above there. While there, I realsied I was about to have a panic attack and fleed, deciding instead that buses were the way forward, Even if one of them had to be a Bendy Bus.
So, two and a half hours after leaving the museum, and half an hour after TKD started, hot and tired and [TMI omitted but rest assured it would've involved discussion of VOLUME], I got home to my filled-with-boxes-to-the-point-of-claustrophobia-flat.
Bah. Stoopid Tubes.
But, there's good news involving Die Schwester, who has been offered the job of Head of Biology at a rather good mixed Grammar School in Marlow, defeating to the post the Dr. who taught us biology at school. So kudos to her.
Bad things happened yesterday on the Piccadilly Line. After a discussion with officemate Sarah about how my motivation for reading had been trailing off, I left the office at 5pm, equipped with The Difference Engine, in my hand and detremined to read it on the way home.
At five forty, after having sat for ten minutes at Leicester Square, I has informed that this train would be stopping at Covent Garden, bitches. So, off I trraipse to get a Westbound line back to Green Park, with the intention of getting a Victoria line up to Krapy Rub Snif.
OK, getting so absorbed in my book on that train that I didn't realise I'd missed my stop until I was pulling out of Hyde Park corner. So off I get at Knightsbridge, with the intention of doubling back again, only to make the realisation that of course all Eastbound Piccadilly Lines are filled to the brim and unnavigable. Bollocks to that, I thought, and went to get the other train.
So, at 6.00, an hour after leaving the museum, I was back in South Kensington station, trying to get a District Line to Victoria, with the intention of tranferring there to the Victoria.
No such luck. The Victoria line platforms were so packed that the crowd went up the escalator and onto the floor above there. While there, I realsied I was about to have a panic attack and fleed, deciding instead that buses were the way forward, Even if one of them had to be a Bendy Bus.
So, two and a half hours after leaving the museum, and half an hour after TKD started, hot and tired and [TMI omitted but rest assured it would've involved discussion of VOLUME], I got home to my filled-with-boxes-to-the-point-of-claustrophobia-flat.
Bah. Stoopid Tubes.
But, there's good news involving Die Schwester, who has been offered the job of Head of Biology at a rather good mixed Grammar School in Marlow, defeating to the post the Dr. who taught us biology at school. So kudos to her.