Thursday, February 12, 2009

17.28 On Time
Thankfully, on time.
I'm tired. Light headed. I can't get warm. I'm soooo hungry.
And I've got another bloody cold.

I choose the uncomfortable, crowded, slooooooow train because of it setting off thirteen minutes before the comfortable, quiet, fast train. Perhaps that was a mistake, because now I'm sitting hemmed into a corner, with my knees pressed up against the rather chunkier knees of a woman dementedly intent on a word search, but I just wanted to get home.

When I get home I want to be made a fuss of, but unobtrusively, without the need for me to reciprocate or even acknowledge that any fuss is being made. I want solicitous (but restrained) attention: cups of tea, hot water bottles and chocolate. I want a deep, hot bath - with half a bottle of bubbles - but not the bother of running it. Then I want to be left alone, but not ignored.

All of which is a bit of a shame really as, tonight, it's just me. I get off the train and head for the chippy, prepared to wallow in vinegary self-pity and boil my own kettle.

Big Tears - Elvis Costello
Acid Test - Emma Pollock
Silent Sigh - Badly Drawn Boy
Lloyd, I'm Ready To Be Heartbroken - Camera Obscura


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