The alarm crackled into life at 5:55 this morning, and reminded me that I will be working in London for the week. After trying to stumble around the bedroom in the inky darkness for a minute or two, a muffled voice escaped the duvet - “turn the light on”.
That’s all the voice said. I didn’t dare answer back. The thing that lives in our bed in the early hours of the morning is both fierce and frightening. Only those who are incredibly brave turn lights on and make noise.
The previous night’s preparations paid off, and I fell into my clothes, coat and bag in Wallace and Gromit style - making the early morning attempt to leave the house that little bit easier.
Minutes after exiting the shower, I found myself wandering through the early morning darkness towards the station, listening to the Beatles, and the crunch of frost under foot.
I have documented this journey too many times for it to still be interesting. Suffice to say that I was squashed by a fat person on the train (again), and stared at for half an hour by a rather scary - but pretty - young woman. I hid behind my copy of Anna Karenina and contemplated it’s effectiveness as a weapon should events escalate.
While walking back from Pret-a-Manger at lunchtime, I followed a small Italian man with quite possibly the shiniest head I have ever seen. You could tell he was italian. His moustache and goatee were too neat. His suit was tailored. His shoes were a good fit. Everything about him looked “right” in some strange collision of correct elements that I never seem to achieve.
I proudly shuffled along in my “wedding shoes”, my khaki trousers, white shirt, patterned blue tie, and huge duffel coat. W says the coat makes me look like a 5 year old. She bought it for me. Should I be getting some kind of hint?
The stars seemed to align for my journey home this evening. I am starting to realise that people who believe in astrology, tarot, religion and various other belief systems have obviously spent a considerably period of their life using public transport. I walked from one train to another all the way home without waiting at all. There must be an angel watching over me somewhere.
I don’t recall hearing any bells though.