Come on back to the war

[devi]

You know those bits in films where the story skips forward and there's an establishing shot showing something that indicates what time we're in now? Newspaper headlines. A pop song. Colour schemes. Jeans suddenly baggy or skinny, hair suddenly fouffy or 'fro. I had a moment like that this summer on the tube at West Ham. In front of me there was a row of people reading newspapers with the Olympics all over them, and some dubstep went 'wommmmm' on my headphones just as we passed a row of wind turbines. Look, it's 2012!

I am posting to LJ from underground, on my commute, with my tiny pocket computer. This morning feels a bit like that. I am wearing glasses. My jeans are indeed skinny. I am listening to an old ultraruby mix (British Summertime). My hair is the same as it ever was. Hello world! It's been a weird couple of years. How were yours?

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Comments

[venta.livejournal.com]

I have the option of going to Paddington and catching the fast train, or just hopping on the slower train locally. The fast train combo gets me to Reading around 10 minutes sooner, but the stopping train is a lot less bother (and doesn't involve Proper City Commuters, who will have your leg off if you delay them by a picosecond).

It's not knackering as such - a ten minute walk, a fifty minute train ride (where I'll always get a seat) and a fifteen minute cycle. It does, however, take up a very large lump of every day. Reading, emailing or dozing makes the train way better than driving, but sometimes I'd like to be doing other things with that time.