I licked and stuck down 45 envelopes this morning. Managed it without a papercut but still, it was as dry as Ghandi’s flip flop by the time I had finished. I am currently ladened down with BOGOF Christmas wrapping paper and bags from Superdrug, and they also had a multibuy offer on hair dye. Trains are apparently fucked, someone fell ill somewhere – sick of waiting for a train no doubt. Woman behind is discussing doing the tree tonight, and would love a sherry to do the tree with… How mundane some people are. It baffles me continually. Copy of the Mail has been tossed about on the carriage from one seat to another, nobody has the sense to shift it properly. The train is one of the new ones with not enough seats. Ballbags. I believe we have rain outside if the train that has just pulled in next to us is anything to go by. I hope the train stays quiet without thousands of people getting on, I need to spread out with these bloody bags – and not in a selfish way, I will wait until we have passed London Bridge to ensure I am not in the way. I just managed to remember to get my travel card sorted out before I got on the train. I always have to go to the tube or DLR station to get my tickets, as the machines at Southeastern stations don’t recognise it. It is most annoying, but then again why am I surprised. It is to do with Southeastern. Girl who looks like Sophie Dahl is on the train – moaning down the phone “I’m so tired, this job is stressin me aaaaaht, naaaah I don’t want pasta and garlic bread for dinner I just wanna go-a bed…” she is angling for a lift. Mother has turned her down and so not she is ringing Daddy for a lift. I could do that but I would need to call at least 8 hours in advance to ensure safe passage to The City to collect me in time. Sherry bird is on the phone again, I wonder if she will get her wish and someone will get her some sherry to do the tree. Tree will look amazing decorated while being shitfaced. She is speaking in a very patronising way to someone “how is your money situation? Are you applying for a loan? Have you got your Christmas presents yet?” I would want to slap the bitch. Just passing the Cat and Cucumber, Mum thought that was a funny name on Friday when she saw it. Turns out that it isn’t raining after all which is good. Was a bit worried my stylish wrapping paper might get damp and crinkly. Just glanced over to the newspaper beside me, to be greeted with Illiterate Mix grimacing back at me. I could only recognise one if I was told to pick them out of a lineup – the Gail Platt one with the gigantic dirty looking hat and no style. People say she is fat, but I would say Misha B was far more portley than Gail Platt. Sophie Dahl seems to be over her fake fatigue and is talking about New Year’s Eve “she only wants to go to Pure, she doesn’t want to go anywhere else” and this reminds me I need a plan. But if I do end up staying in on my own, that isn’t so bad really. I have done it before. The people next to her are talking about events in 2013 – it is weird hearing people talking about that year as it seems nobody believes it will ever arrive. The Olympics is the be all and end all, no mention of anything in the years after that. It must be like the Millennium… But here we are, almost 12 years on and it is a distant memory. I was saying the other day about places that called themselves The Millennium something way back when, and I am surprised that we aren’t surrounded by The Olympic somethings right now – haven’t seen one yet. Perhaps I am not in the right place. I suppose Greenwich was the Millennium borough because of the meridian. I just want to get home and unload these bags. Bags are shit.
Sorry for the spelling mistakes but it was posted with WordPress for BlackBerry dahling.
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Observations Of A Commuter 