Well, I apologise to the three women that barred my exit from the tube tonight and seemed to think I should be able to pass through them. Sorry, I haven't yet gained my lisence for passing through organic matter. I know, it's ridiculous. How long could it possibly take? But seriously, next time, when someone is saying excuse me and smiling and pushing through to get the hell out, just move your fat asses out of the way.
I had an interesting journey of smells on the way home. The first tube I got from Russell Square to Kings Cross, stunk of chicken soup. It was bizarre. There was this huge guy, very square like and I was sandwiched against him. He wore a grey suit and it just stunk of chicken soup. Weird. Then the next tube I got on smelled of soap. Such a complete contrast. I've never really noticed such smells before. It's normally just man sweat, or dust and fumes and general undergroundness.
Ah well. Am looking forward to left over roast for tea. Yum! I love left overs. Well, for one it means I don't need to cook, and for two, it always seems to taste a little better. And as my fella has just started his new job and I'm likely to be home alone most of the week, then left overs is definitely good. Let's hope I can use my solitary confinement for good use. Let Writing Fest 2011 begin.........
xx
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