Staying home for the tube strike

I got back from Bristol and parked up outside mine in the late afternoon, and good thing too. Now its evening, and the road outside my flat is a jungle. I was going to head into town to see Jack throwing some ideas around, but there’s no uber in this crap so I’d have to drive in myself and nobody in his right mind would get on the roads when its like this, and less so knowing I’ll have to pay the congestion charge. Traffic in both directions outside my window is backed up as far as the lights and bridges. Everybody with a job and a car has used their car to get to their job, and with lockdown restrictions dropped I bet you this week is the week that many of the people who run offices insisted that whoever’s left of the workforce comes in physically if at all possible. They’re all coming home tired. So, of course, Tfl has organised a tube strike. God knows what they’re striking about now… Maybe they’re asking for fares to be lowered? They are already ridiculously expensive. But with all the people in London, you gotta believe that a tube strike is a sure fire way of causing absolute carnage across the capital.

This doesn’t do it justice

It’s raining as well. I was going to drive to the shop, but I took one look at it and walked. I bought myself a chicken kiev. It’s an atrocious attempt at solidarity, and it’s a cheap easy meal. I’m knackered. Sleep more or less completely eluded me in the Premier Inn last night. The school was excellent though thank God, and considering I’m talking about engineering and sustainability I felt a good deal more kosher having just been part of the team that made a sustainable race in the desert. I’m still wearing my wristband, like a teenager who has been to a festival. It helps me remember the warmth and the work. I should take the time to draw up my invoice…

On the way home I had two calls, both seeing if I was able to do something fun. One of them was a delightful bit of mentoring in Somerstown. The other was being a (mercifully unrecognisable) dancing goblin for a week starting tomorrow. Yes really. In a mask. “You’re the first person we thought of!” And honestly, I wish I could be that goblin. But I’m off to Yorkshire on Thursday, so both lovely options had to be thrown out. But then I got a third call and it looks like I might be going to ANOTHER crazy distant place at the end of April to get plugged into more electric car insanity. Watch this space. It won’t happen if Disney calls (and they actually might). But it’s starting to feel like this year, after the long wait through COVID, will be a properly adventurous year again. Bring it on, I say. I’ve needed it, and I’ll do all I can to make it happen. The world is big. This is helping me stick a few more pins in the map.

Tonight though I’m going to get into a hot bath and go to bed before ten. Tomorrow is gonna be extremely physically demanding – I’m providing my services as an actor for training movement directors to practice their craft on. I’m expecting multiple warm-ups that take my post pandemic willing actor body to the edge of vomit, and then lots of Laban efforts. I reckon I’ll be glad of a long night down, so I’m getting one.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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