![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
1 more sleep.
Oh, and I'm back at University. The train journey was nasty.
Trains into Birmingham New Street are almost always 10-20 minutes late. This is one of the irrefutable laws of the universe. Really, it is. Another law is that they will always allow either 18 or 22 minutes for you to change there. Meaning you either just miss your next train or end up having to run down from one end of the station to the other (with a huge bag half full of heavy books) and stumble through the doors just as they are closing, only to realise that you didn't check that this was the right train before you climbed on and now it's moving.
So, bearing that in mind, I got to the station early, so I could get an earlier train to New Street if one came. It did, I got it. Fine.
Except that train decided to be one of the 0.00001% that get into BNS on time. Which left me sitting in the corridor place at New Street for an hour. Fine, I had Pratchett, everything was good.
So, finally get to platform when it comes up on screen. Meet friend from university, have short conversation about how we've had exactly the same morning. We have reservations in different carriages, so we split up. I sit next to a very twitchy woman, who looks at me, and my big heavy bag of doom, funny, keeps straining to look over the seats in front as though there's someone she's looking for. Then, a few minutes later she tells me she's going to get something to eat and she never comes back... I swear I didn't do anything to her. All I asked was 'do you mind me sitting here? I have it reserved?' and 'what stop are you getting off at?' both perfectly logical and reasonable questions.
Of course, in my head she then became a drug runner, or an international spy...
Then that train got delayed for forty minutes (by a possible fatality on the line, so I'm not angry, just weary, about that. Not that it was a fatality, but...) Then I completely zoned out the stop before mine, and ended up thinking that my stop was the stop before and having to shove everything into my bag at the same time as juggling my other two bags and getting off the train before it whisked me further north.
Then I had to queue for an hour to get a damn taxi. And the taxi driver told me that I should have got an earlier train. I very quickly told him that I got a train at 10.51 in the morning. Not that late, really...
*sigh*
1 more sleep.
Oh, and a new suggestion for an outfit for the new doctor: Goth!Doc, courtesy of my housemate.
1 more sleep.
I have come to the conclusion that I am an addictions addict. I really am.
1 more sleep til Spn!
Oh, and I'm back at University. The train journey was nasty.
Trains into Birmingham New Street are almost always 10-20 minutes late. This is one of the irrefutable laws of the universe. Really, it is. Another law is that they will always allow either 18 or 22 minutes for you to change there. Meaning you either just miss your next train or end up having to run down from one end of the station to the other (with a huge bag half full of heavy books) and stumble through the doors just as they are closing, only to realise that you didn't check that this was the right train before you climbed on and now it's moving.
So, bearing that in mind, I got to the station early, so I could get an earlier train to New Street if one came. It did, I got it. Fine.
Except that train decided to be one of the 0.00001% that get into BNS on time. Which left me sitting in the corridor place at New Street for an hour. Fine, I had Pratchett, everything was good.
So, finally get to platform when it comes up on screen. Meet friend from university, have short conversation about how we've had exactly the same morning. We have reservations in different carriages, so we split up. I sit next to a very twitchy woman, who looks at me, and my big heavy bag of doom, funny, keeps straining to look over the seats in front as though there's someone she's looking for. Then, a few minutes later she tells me she's going to get something to eat and she never comes back... I swear I didn't do anything to her. All I asked was 'do you mind me sitting here? I have it reserved?' and 'what stop are you getting off at?' both perfectly logical and reasonable questions.
Of course, in my head she then became a drug runner, or an international spy...
Then that train got delayed for forty minutes (by a possible fatality on the line, so I'm not angry, just weary, about that. Not that it was a fatality, but...) Then I completely zoned out the stop before mine, and ended up thinking that my stop was the stop before and having to shove everything into my bag at the same time as juggling my other two bags and getting off the train before it whisked me further north.
Then I had to queue for an hour to get a damn taxi. And the taxi driver told me that I should have got an earlier train. I very quickly told him that I got a train at 10.51 in the morning. Not that late, really...
*sigh*
1 more sleep.
Oh, and a new suggestion for an outfit for the new doctor: Goth!Doc, courtesy of my housemate.
1 more sleep.
I have come to the conclusion that I am an addictions addict. I really am.
1 more sleep til Spn!