Dear Reader,
It's bellow freezing here.
And it's snowing.
I hate it.
I normally don't mind watching the snow fall; as long as I'm inside with a hot mug of tea clasped in my hands. Other than that, I want absolutely nothing to do with snow, ever again. (Well, I think I can make an exception for the great joy of pelting my brothers with it.)
Anyway, I should be at university right now, helping my supervisor in the lab, doing my own research. But instead, I am once again wrapped up thoroughly in a blanket, with a horridly sniffly nose. And who is to blame for this whole escapade... well I'll let you figure that out for yourself.
It was a struggle to get up this morning, to leave my warm and comfortable bed for the icy wetness of the bathroom. But I finally managed to be up and out by 6am, just in time to pray the morning prayer (fajr). Then I took a lovely steamy shower, put on seven layers of clothing and 3 pairs of socks and went down for breakfast. As per my daily routine, after breakfast I walked to my local train station (a 20 mins walk by the way) to catch the 08:36 train.
The train station hangs precariously from a bridge, with train tracks scattered beneath and an equally precarious kebab shop on the opposite side of the road. The station extends three tentacles that become the outdoor platforms as they hit the ground and are splayed parallel between the train tracks. So there I am on the platform towards London, freezing my toes off. It's 9:17am. I keep looking down to check that I'm not actually standing bare foot on ice. The screen that's supposed to tell me when the next train will arrive has a jumble of nonsense words on it.
When a train finally does arrive, it's packed to the brim, so much so, that people trying to get off the train can't find a way out. And of course all the hundred or so other freezing black/brown-clad commuters that where also imitating icicles on the platform, suddenly find motion and run to congest any door of the train they can find, therefore leaving little me without any hope of getting on this train.
Frustrated, I take the smart-phone-xperia-thing
out my coat pocket but I can't get the stupid thing to unlock, because, of course, it's not going to work while I still have gloves on. So I take the frozen-twigs that where once fingers on my right hand, out of my glove and shakily find the app. with live travel information. At exactly that point, my ice-addled brain reminds me that there is a tube strike today. Brilliant brain, why couldn't you have told me that while I was still inside the house! ( Aside: sarcasm doesn't work well when it's only in your own head.)
At this point I gave up. I called my supervisor and let him know that there was no chance on this earth of me making into uni before 3 pm. To which he replied: "Oh, don't worry about it. I already e-mailed you this morning that you don't have to come in today if it's too much of a hassle." I thanked him with a politeness that I did not feel and then began trudging my way back out of the station.
20 minutes later, I arrived back home, shaking so badly that I could not get my keys in to the lock and so had to ring the bell instead. My marvellous mother, who had opened the door, immediately wrapped me in blankets and deposited my besides the cooker. After about an hour or so of defrosting in the kitchen, paying particular attention to my peripheral extremities, I tentatively came upstairs, opened my beloved laptop and began this scathing post on the weather.
In the end, I can blame neither the weather, the trains, the strike or my supervisor. It falls to entirely and wholly upon myself and my brain. *Sigh, cough, cough*
A word of warning dear Reader: before leaving your house this winter, make sure you check the weather and live travel information.
Anyway, I should be at university right now, helping my supervisor in the lab, doing my own research. But instead, I am once again wrapped up thoroughly in a blanket, with a horridly sniffly nose. And who is to blame for this whole escapade... well I'll let you figure that out for yourself.It was a struggle to get up this morning, to leave my warm and comfortable bed for the icy wetness of the bathroom. But I finally managed to be up and out by 6am, just in time to pray the morning prayer (fajr). Then I took a lovely steamy shower, put on seven layers of clothing and 3 pairs of socks and went down for breakfast. As per my daily routine, after breakfast I walked to my local train station (a 20 mins walk by the way) to catch the 08:36 train.
The train station hangs precariously from a bridge, with train tracks scattered beneath and an equally precarious kebab shop on the opposite side of the road. The station extends three tentacles that become the outdoor platforms as they hit the ground and are splayed parallel between the train tracks. So there I am on the platform towards London, freezing my toes off. It's 9:17am. I keep looking down to check that I'm not actually standing bare foot on ice. The screen that's supposed to tell me when the next train will arrive has a jumble of nonsense words on it.
When a train finally does arrive, it's packed to the brim, so much so, that people trying to get off the train can't find a way out. And of course all the hundred or so other freezing black/brown-clad commuters that where also imitating icicles on the platform, suddenly find motion and run to congest any door of the train they can find, therefore leaving little me without any hope of getting on this train.
Frustrated, I take the smart-phone-xperia-thing out my coat pocket but I can't get the stupid thing to unlock, because, of course, it's not going to work while I still have gloves on. So I take the frozen-twigs that where once fingers on my right hand, out of my glove and shakily find the app. with live travel information. At exactly that point, my ice-addled brain reminds me that there is a tube strike today. Brilliant brain, why couldn't you have told me that while I was still inside the house! ( Aside: sarcasm doesn't work well when it's only in your own head.)At this point I gave up. I called my supervisor and let him know that there was no chance on this earth of me making into uni before 3 pm. To which he replied: "Oh, don't worry about it. I already e-mailed you this morning that you don't have to come in today if it's too much of a hassle." I thanked him with a politeness that I did not feel and then began trudging my way back out of the station.
20 minutes later, I arrived back home, shaking so badly that I could not get my keys in to the lock and so had to ring the bell instead. My marvellous mother, who had opened the door, immediately wrapped me in blankets and deposited my besides the cooker. After about an hour or so of defrosting in the kitchen, paying particular attention to my peripheral extremities, I tentatively came upstairs, opened my beloved laptop and began this scathing post on the weather.
In the end, I can blame neither the weather, the trains, the strike or my supervisor. It falls to entirely and wholly upon myself and my brain. *Sigh, cough, cough*
A word of warning dear Reader: before leaving your house this winter, make sure you check the weather and live travel information.
Nida
P.S. - as pertains to the title of this post, well all I can say is that I only recently became a huge fan of the Star Wars Series. :-D
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