Backwards Thursday

Backwards Clothes

A2 looked at my top today and said,

“Uhm…do you know that you have your top on inside out? …And backwards?”

I doubt I’d have realised until I got home.

I set my phone clock 10 minutes ahead last night in my customary optimistic attempt to drag myself out of bed early enough so I don’t have to jog between every change on the way to work. Of course, I mentally kept minusing 10 from the time so it made no difference whatsoever.

By the time I actually arrive I’m usually knackered, hot and my hair is everywhere. It was a sprint from out the tube at Angel, up 2 escalators and down the stairs. Unfortunately got stuck behind some incompetant commuters as they were trundling along.

I reach the platform, the tube just leaves. Commuters curses! Double curses even.

Don’t you hate people who don’t know the commuters code?

Walk fast, make way, don’t shove,  left of the escalators is the fast-track, right for slow coaches. Simple.

Poor Escalator Etiquette is especially aggravating. I try and say “Excuse me!” in my snootiest voice if they break the code.

The other day, running and watch-checking constantly, I saw I had a text from a colleague while I was on the tube. Guilty, it flashed through my mind that I was going to get a scolding.

Luckily it turned out the bosses as work were having a wee bit of shouty-shouty in the office. (This means both the A’s, on opposite sides of the same desk, yelling furiously at each other)

It had got so heated that M. & J were actually booted out of the office and everyone else was to wait in the cafe nearby. M was shortly called back to also be shouted at. Scary stuff – but shirking out of 40 mins of work was jolly.

I have resolved to get up earlier, smoke less and not shout at the intern anymore.

I’m probably going to break the first two, at the very least.


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