It wasn't intended to be my day. Weatherwise not great. Cold and sleety, although not as cold or sleety as it has been.
Burst water main on Brixton Hill, the A23. No traffic allowed through. Most importantly, all buses on diversion. So I walked to the Tube Station. Half an hour down hill. By the time I got to Housing Benefit I was leggy-achy. I always tend to think of Housing Benefit as being Central Brixton. Well, you would wouldn't you. but it's still a good walk from there to the Tube.
Minor bomb scare at work - just a suspect package in the Post Room, but two PA announcements are a disturbance, especially when as part of the Emergency Response Team you're on slight tenterhooks wondering if you'll have to unleash the sniffer hounds of hell.
Afternoon course in another building. The building where, four years and two moves ago I started my less-than-illustrious career in this august department. Silly place in relation to our current building and public transport in general. Especially when there's a bank trip needed in between. Not including the pause at the bank (£25 they're charging me for transmission of funds...), the walk took half an hour.
Debating how to get home. I decided that bus to Vauxhall would be the best thing. Then either a) train to Clapham Junction and another train to Streatham Hill or b) tube to Balham and train to Streatham Hill. Thinking that the Vauxhall to CJ trains might be full, or disrupted by snow in Surrey and remembering there was a power failure at CJ earlier in the week, I opted for Tube. As I changed at Stockwell they said that Balham Station was closed, due to flooding. So I ended up getting off at Clapham South and walking for half an hour along the South Circular. There is a bus but it's unreliable in the best of conditions. Indeed, the bus drew up to my alighting stop when I was just ten metres from it. The traffic is a total nightmare all round; I was right not to go Clapham Common because the bus route back is completely chocca with diverted traffic. That walk was only twenty five minutes, although much of it was into the biting East Wind. Leggy very achy.
Tomorrow I go to see the rheumatologist at Kings. I have two alternative ways to get there - half hour walk down Brixton Hill and bus, or train into London and out again...There's no point going by car - all the roads for miles around are choccachocca because of a big deep trench across Brixton Hill.
So I shall go to the Rheumatologist who shall ask 'How do you feel?' and I will say 'legs achey' before launching into all my other achey symptoms. Today we were mostly doing neck, and elbow, yesterday it was mainly feet, the previous day left elbow and right kneee, at the weekend it was face and left thigh. And I won't mention my insides.
Not that anything actually hurts as such, not to the extent of needing painkillers. Okay, I can no longer run, and I have forgotten what feels normal. And sometimes I can't walk. But today I managed an hour and a half walking and suffered only extreme discomfort.
But I think my trousers are totally ruined from walking through all the puddles, especially the ones at the Tesco building site at Clapham South.
And I nearly slipped on the cobbles at Strutton Ground. Cobbles are the spawn of satan and should be driven from the face of the earth.
One of my colleagues told me I can't wear skirts, or certainly not short ones, in our new building 'Valhalla' because I'm sitting next to the atrium, which is glass-panelled, on the third floor. I never wear skirts in winter, spring or autumn, but much of my 'cor what a scocher' wardrobe is shortish skirts. Another colleague has pointed out that no one will be able to see my PC screen where I'm sitting. I'm not convinced. We shall see.
Will you be wanting pictures of Valhalla and our £200 chairs?
