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Joy to the world the bus driver's dead (I wish) 2002-11-02 | 6:26 p.m. Death to the bus drivers. Hmm, actually if they ALL died then surely there would be NO buses whatsoever. Ok, let me change that to all the bus drivers that have a) gone on strike, b) claim it's the end of their shift, or c) have disappeared off the face of the fucking earth. Yes it's been raining pretty much non-fucking-stop in Leicester, and each time I attempt to get a bus it's a forty minute wait. Yesterday this resulted in me and three others trying to inconspicuously go into our lecture fifteen minutes late, although of course the only seats left were the ones right at the front, and I could feel people staring at me in my funny hat, and my lecturer looking at me while I yawned for the 45 minutes of the remaining lecture and not do note-taking. Lovely. On a more positive note: Today I bought train tickets to go home to Stevenage next Friday and back on the Sunday. Yay! This is good as I know my mother will be infinitely glad to see me again ("The house still feels soooo empty,") and on the Saturday I will be spending all day in London. Don't miss Stevenage at all, just London. And then on the Sunday I can go and terrorise all my old work friends, so yay again! The getting of the tickets was a bit of a confusing ordeal: "Hello, I'd like to get a return ticket to Stevenage for next weekend." "Ok, there are no direct trains there so where would you like to change?" "Er, wherever's quickest." "So Peterborough then? What time would you like to go?" "Um, in the afternoon sometime." "Yes ok, but what time?" Was I meant to have some psychic power that would enable me to know the exact times of the trains I was meant to be getting? Still, at least I know I'm going home now, and the return was just under 20 quid, which isn't bad. Oh and if anyone knows what the fuck has happened to the old Blind Date format then let me know... |
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