It's Tuesday and I'm staring at the sleeve of a man's jumper with two holes near the wrist. I shouldn't have this knowledge. Not because this man is married to a seamstress or something, or that there's anything particularly wrong with having holes. It's just when I got to the tube at 7.30 am I had presumed I'd get a seat, or at the very least some space. But no, it's 7.30 am and I'm in very close proximity to a man's sleeve.
At work we're promised snow. Apparently it will snow all evening and we won't be able to get to work in the morning. I've done two days work this year, that's enough for now. I try to get food from the corner shop but they rarely have what I'm looking for. The guys have two TVs to look at, one for security, the other showing films.
Family members text to say there's a foot of snow outside their front door so no work in the morning. I'm waiting for the same, but at the same time hoping the postman can make his way to my door to put my lovefilm DVDs through the letter box.
Wednesday and I'm woken by the sound of traffic. That can't be right, there's meant to be snow up to the bedroom window. I look out the blinds and there's snow, but not enough. The buses and the tubes are running. Slowly. At work I look out the window and big flakes fall, but they're not settling. I guess if I'd had the day off all the work on my desk would still be here for me to do anyway.
Back home and the DVDs have arrived extra early. This snow sure seems to be helping the postal service with its duties.
No comments:
Post a Comment