girlsdontcry's Diaryland Diary


Level Of Tube Busker Enjoyment Normality Scale

I was on the Tube and then when we got to Baker Street a man got on with a guitar and a harmonica and played the whole of 'Baker Street', and kept going past all the stops until he'd finished (just before we arrived at King's Cross). I enjoyed it far more than I felt that I should have, which is stupid because why would I think that there is some Level Of Tube Busker Enjoyment Normality Scale to which I must conform?

There isn't one!

Then I was in the British Library and Seamus Heaney was there, being utterly brilliant (he read a poem about baking and it did have a line about a floury apron).

Oh god, after googling I realised that the worst thing in the world that could happen would be that it turned out to be a flowery apron, but somehow from the sense of what he said, there was no doubt that it could be anything other than floury! How did he do that? And I'm right. Thankfully. Maybe I don't know enough about baking but is the goose's wing metaphoric, or LITERAL?

On the Tube again in the morning and I was reading what the man next to me, well, he seemed to be proofreading one of those Christmas catch up letters that people groan about and it made me wish so much that everyone I know would send me one.

It was utterly brilliant! Lucky people on HIS Christmas card list. For they are soon to receive a long, long missive that begins with a metaphor about coming up for "gulps of sweet air" and then finding that life had "shoved your face near an open sewer".

They will then be informed that New Year's Eve 2004 had been one of his quietest ever (no one asked him to a party??) but that he was glad the year was gone. In fact, to quote him, "good riddance to 2004, I say".

The lucky recipients of this letter will then discover that our author had a successful beginning to the work year because he'd managed to... let me get this straight... "move the depot assets to an electronic register". Talk about poetry! Wow, this paragraph about asset moving went on and on and on.

I couldn't read as much as I would like but I do know that he had a trip to Bath, in which he went to the Pump Room and the Assembly Rooms, and that Dad gets fatigued. He signed off "kindest regards". Then he put it away in his briefcase (in which he also kept his Tesco Clubcard) and got out some sort of price list, which I do believe was for model trains.

Can you imagine how badly I wanted to give him my address and beg him to put me on his Christmas card list? Mr Burrough of Mill Hill, are you reading this? Does anyone know him? Is anyone on his Christmas card list and can get me pirate copy of the letter?

I was sent a chocolate-filled Advent calendar yesterday and I've spent this morning picking out chocolates on the days I know I won't be at work. Instead of just going crazy and eating them in any order I fancy.

10:30 a.m. - 2005-12-02


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