It's just not my day today.
My three teaching groups this morning are not responsive. We had lots of fun last week, but today I am ill-prepared and they aren't doing their practice. Leaving the Bakerloo at Oxford Circus to change for the Central Line, I enter the platform to find loads of people, an unmoving train, and no announcements. No-one knows what's going on - bad vibe, time to bail. I come back out to find a bus, but as I get on my Oyster card suddenly has no money on it, and these buses on Oxford Street don't take money.
Sighing the Londoner's sigh of frustration at this whole place, I cut through the crowds to the next Central Line station, Tottenham Court Road. Waiting behind one person at the Oyster top-up machine, I go to present my card and the machine closes in front of me. In the middle of a weekday. In central London.
Back up into Oxford Street, I walk past my bank to deposit a cheque. The queue is as long as forever, and the one machine that takes cheques is, strangely enough, not working. I press on, walking the length of Oxford Street, past Holborn, and finally to Chancery Lane, my turn. I get into my desk job a little late, to be expected, and crackly crazy Kath, my co-worker, probably in the midst of yet another panicky afternoon, starts with:
"Right, now, first things first...you're meant to be here at 1.30."
There is little work to do and she's not my boss.
"The tube was delayed," I mutter frustratedly.
"Yes yes, I know, not having a go at you, it's okay, these things happen...but try to be on time, okay?"