That time I fell out with Public Transport..

After panic attacks, being the ‘weirdo-on-the-train’, hours of delays, fatalities, a million bags, children with suitcases, an out-of-battery phone, and a whole tube of fruit pastilles, I’m avoiding public transport for a while..

Yesterday was quite honestly a nightmare. Picture the scene: -A hurricane of clothes decorating my room as I attempt to pack logically. -One MASSIVE suitcase plus 2 fairly heavy arm bags weighing me down as I trek half way across Brighton and up the mammoth hill to the station, I swear whoever built that place didn’t ever consider that people have to walk. With suitcases. -An exhausted, pale girl with too many bags slumped in a corner of the station unable to breathe or focus and trying not to cry (Hellooo Panic Attack, you beauty..). -A stupid amount of people on the trains that are normally empty at that time of day. -That fantastically insistent beeping of an iphone telling me it would like to die soon. StupidLackOfBatteryOnAnOtherwiseBeautifulPhone. -An hour and a half (at least) delay at Reading station, because somebody was hit by the train I should’ve been getting on. -*That* child with the bright pink suitcase who got between me and the train doors. Of the first rescheduled train back to Oxford. Thus preventing me from getting home for a good extra hour. Also making me feel as though I were essentially living ‘Sliding Doors’, and could have just missed a beautiful Scottish man, aka Mr John Hannah.. -And finally, sugar rush. From the banana & choc. chunk cakes with homemade-marshmallow icing I’d been chowing all morning, not to mention the entire tube of fruit pastilles I’d inhaled in a wacky attempt to curb the panic attack. There was a serious case of the sugar shakes going on..

Luckily, I managed to resist the urge to clobber the small child (and her pink suitcase) that prevented me from catching the closing doors of the train. Which is really probably a very good thing because I don’t think my stress headaches could deal with some sort of asbo/restraining order/formal complaint/arrest. But I mean seriously, let’s be honest, any day that begins as beautifully bright as yesterday was, and then has to be spent packing, is always going to be a failure.


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