|not the same as tottenham court road|
Cut to: 5 minutes later. woman exits train and files like an ant in an ant farm (i so want an ant farm. christmas pressie anyone???) through the corridors and spiral staircases at bank and plops right into the train that arrived, as though choreographed to, just as she enters the platform.
Scene: a woman in her mid-30s sits on the Central Line doing some work. she is already a bit late and slightly annoyed at the whole Tube situation in general. suddenly, with a jolt, she looks up, shocked, as the lady on the train announces 'the next station is Bethnal Green'.
Fade to black.
yes, that's right, boys and girls. today, sober and well-rested, i got on a tube going the wrong direction and failed to notice for four stops. what really started to make me wonder was how it wasn't very crowded. anyway, i discovered this at bethnal green, but it was too late. so at mile end, i sheepishly exited train one, walked up the stairs (and this is the worst part, cause the people behind you all know, they know, what you've done) and turn back down the Westbound platform. I needn't confirm that i was indeed late to work, but the worst, WORST part is.
my bagel-making soulmate is mad at me. we are in a fight.
today my bagel, for no reason i can imagine, was covered with a paper-thin layer of cream cheese. there was no (actually kind of annoying) glob of extra poking out of the hole in the centre that i and my OCD-ish self had to scoop out and redistribute evenly with my index finger. there was no exciting little treat stuck to the bag that i could eat as an amuse-bouche to my actual bagel. i tried to smile at him but he was hard to see through that little window today. what have i done!?