What the Hell, People?
You know, sometimes living in London is a total nightmare. Let's look at the facts- there's noise, pollution, noise pollution, the aroma of sewage and never being more than 5ft from a rat. The worst thing has got to be the Tube. It's like a billion years old so and even though half the stations are shut down all weekend supposedly for repairs, everything is always out of order. And it's super hot and packed out and stinks of piss and you can never get a damn seat. Whenever I head to the office in the morning everyone is just standing around dead-eyed and then we all shamble through those nasty little corridors like...drones or something.
Today was just the living end. I was headed for Camden for a little weekend shopping and the Northern line is held up for like ever because of a "person under a train". First, ew, second, if they're under a train, are they even a person anymore? I'm sure they used to say "body on the line". I don't know why they changed it. So then, when we finally get to Camden Lock, the lift is out, so we had to take the stairs. I swear to you, some people were so exhausted, they were just passing out on the floor. When I got to the top, and this is the fucked up bit, some drunk comes at me and fucking scratches me with his filthy dirty nails! What in the hell? I've probably got, like, hepatitis or something.
So then I was like, man forget today. This is a write-off. I got back on the Tube and put up with delays and heat and people coughing and being all gross. It's a good thing I live right by the station because I was in no mood to even look at another human being. Now I have some tea and some chocolates and my SATC box-set and I'm writing this up, Carrie-style. But I'm telling you, I feel awful, just totally exhausted. And I think I'm running a fever. That's London for you. I'm going to hit the sack and sleep like the dead. I swear, you guys, I'm so glad you people are in my life because if it wasn't for you, I'd go crazy. I promise I'll come visit you all real soon!
It is Blog Like It's The End Of The World Day, on which you blog as if a zombie apocalypse is occuring. None of this happened. I would never, ever, not in a million years, own a Sex and the City box-set.
Today was just the living end. I was headed for Camden for a little weekend shopping and the Northern line is held up for like ever because of a "person under a train". First, ew, second, if they're under a train, are they even a person anymore? I'm sure they used to say "body on the line". I don't know why they changed it. So then, when we finally get to Camden Lock, the lift is out, so we had to take the stairs. I swear to you, some people were so exhausted, they were just passing out on the floor. When I got to the top, and this is the fucked up bit, some drunk comes at me and fucking scratches me with his filthy dirty nails! What in the hell? I've probably got, like, hepatitis or something.
So then I was like, man forget today. This is a write-off. I got back on the Tube and put up with delays and heat and people coughing and being all gross. It's a good thing I live right by the station because I was in no mood to even look at another human being. Now I have some tea and some chocolates and my SATC box-set and I'm writing this up, Carrie-style. But I'm telling you, I feel awful, just totally exhausted. And I think I'm running a fever. That's London for you. I'm going to hit the sack and sleep like the dead. I swear, you guys, I'm so glad you people are in my life because if it wasn't for you, I'd go crazy. I promise I'll come visit you all real soon!
It is Blog Like It's The End Of The World Day, on which you blog as if a zombie apocalypse is occuring. None of this happened. I would never, ever, not in a million years, own a Sex and the City box-set.