Ticket Inspectors – snow – red balloon and leaving work early.

 The strangest thing I saw when drawing my curtains to greet the morning was sometime after halloween; a man was trying to stuff a pumpkin into the plastic bin across the road. Outside today is pure white. It started snowing yesterday and was pretty thick when I left my parents' house, after a fantastic sunday roast, to celebrate my brother's birthday - his 37th. I had the street and the snow to myself. The only footprints along the white pavement were mine.

The ticket inspector on the 7.42 from Horsham to Victoria was extremely apologetic. He said he was sorry to ask for tickets and we, the passengers, were very kind to show him. It was as if he'd suffered some great trauma and the last thing he wanted to do was confront people. Mind you a little later on, I thought perhaps he was being sarcastic, when he greeted a customer with, 'Happy Christmas'. It was snowing, I suppose. Maybe he got confused. Ticket inspectors are a funny bunch and seem to compensate for their jobs with odd behaviour, such as jokey tannoid announcements, or rudeness, or in this case downright politeness.

The train got me back to London on time. Today the whole London transport system is crippled by the snow, the result being that hardly anybody makes it into work. An afternoon blizzard is predicted and the rest of us are sent home at mid-day. The snow is thick and hangs wonderfully from trees, and is heaped against curbs, on car rooftops, on the roof of the church and the houses. A red balloon hangs from a tree. A small child drops a snowball on her unlucky dog. Children are dragged on taboggans towards Primrose Hill. Ken Livingstone, the ex-Mayor is shopping in Sainsbury's.

It's one of those day where the joy of leaving work early, the thought of those extra hours is the best part. The rest of the day just sails on by with little completed. I read a bit of a book, I fall asleep for a while, I make some food and drink too much tea. It begins to feel like one of those days spent on the dole, where you wish you had a job just so you can get that feeling of relief when you leave work. Maybe that's why I took up temping all those years ago, the more jobs you have, the more you can leave. Leaving is a great feeling. It's the what to do next that always stumps me. Focus, I need to focus.

I wouldn't mind tomorrow off work though.