You wake up and feel like sh*t. You've got a runny nose and no energy. Death warmed up doesn't convey the true sentiment because you are not remotely warm. It's freezing outside and you can hear the wind beating against the window. You ponder if it's possible for your house to move from England to Siberia overnight without you noticing. You get buffeted by gale-firce winds on the way to the station, you could imagine feeling better walking through a car wash.
Inevitably, the Central Line has delays and, to jazz it up a bit, the District Line comes out in sympathy with healthy delays too. The man next to you on the platform at Mile End actually starts singing and then making random noises before just wandering off. You can only assume the poor chap has cracked under the pressure.
Yep, it's Christmas time. Isn't that great?
Labels: Central Line, Christmas, District Line