Yet another hot day.
Worked lated in the office, left about 6:30ish to go catch the No. 24 bus up to Warren St Tube station where I was meeting Tim for a quick drink before home.
Spent nearly 15mins waiting on a bloody 24 bus. I got to the bus stop (which is right outside work by cutting through HMRC onto Parliment St) , and saw that the LED sign was saying 15 mins for a no. 24 bus. Surely that can’t be right? It’s still rush hour, and after checking the timetable there should have been a bus every 8-10mins.
There is a massive crowd at the bus stop – I just resign myself to the fact that on this blistering hot day, I will crammed like a sardine into a portable oven till Warren Street. And yes, the bus was packed.
Finally got to Warren Street, peeled myself off of the seat and grabbed a paper to read whilst I waited for Tim. And waited. And waited. I didn’t realise that the Victoria line had been suspended between Walthamstow & Seven Sisters because of a person underneath the train, causing severe delays to the rest of the line.
Really. If you are wanting to end your life, do you have to do it at rush hour on one of the main tubes lines? How inconsiderate to your fellow travelers who, unlike the person under the train have decided to keep on living and go on with their daily lives. There’s inconvenience, and then there’s inconvenience.
Anyway, I digress. Finally met up, and I made the mistake (a glaring ‘school boy error’), of choosing a pub that had the cricket on.
Not a lot of conversation as Tim’s transfixed by the TV – I’m sitting there with my grapefruit and lemonade swealtering in the non-air conditioned pub.
Headed home after that, jumping on the No.10 bus to Euston, then onto the 73, and I actually managed to find a seat! Kinda got hungry on the journey home and was debating with myself to either a shish kebab, chinese or a pizza from La Barca.
I’d settled on the pizza as I’d never got round to getting one on last Saturday. By this time it’s nearly 9pm, I’m hot, tierd, thirsty – got home, opened the door to find that it wasn’t any cooler, infact it was hotter inside the house than outside! So, after munching away, drinking juice, watching some telly, downloading e-mail etc etc I decide to go to sleep.
All through-out the evening, I’m keeping an ear out for this suicidal mozzie that enjoyed nearly a pint of my blood the evening before. This time I’m armed with newspaper and fly/wasp spray. Just let the little bastard come near me and it’s dead.
I’m starting to doze off, but am still keeping an ear out for this damm mozzie. Next thing I know, it’s morning. I check over for any new bites – but seem to be mozzie bite clear!
Where the hell did it go?
Perhaps it found a tastier victim? Not that I’m complaining!