straight hair, but aching feet
It was a windy day in central London, but i took every opportunity to be outdoors. Work helped, by sending me to City Hall for a meeting in the morning. From there it wasn't hard to compound excuses and win myself a walk along the southern Bank opposite the City, over London Bridge, and up to Moorgate, where i have a bank. Broke all sorts of frugality rules and borrowed three hundred quid back for myself from daddy's (admittedly lean) coffers. the overarching sentiment was - what the fuck. as i said to my boss in my appraisal on monday, it's shameful to think that i'm nearly 30, handling huge projects of London wide importance, and yet have to borrow money from friends for travelling. Don't know if the point went home to him, but it sure did to me. The plan now is to line my bank account first with any surplus funds, and once i have a safety net, send the rest home. shouldn't take more than 2 months, let's see. It's just that i can't cope with perpetual heartbreak, back-break and penny pinching all at the same time.
So it was a nice walk. The jabbering of tourists and wailing of sirens were on the air, which blew every which way in the high wind. Near the bank, I read the plaque outside Bunhill Fields, the burial ground on City road, and immediately decided to include it the 'burial grounds of the City' walkabout that i'm planning for the weekend after edinburgh. Then i reluctantly got back to the office. Had a strange windfall when my team's impossible workload for the week was cut by a fifth. It may have made me reckless, as i left work in the evening hours before i meant to.
Ever attempting to dereeve, i set myself the goal of walking from Victoria to Kings Cross, where i had to pick up edinburgh tickets (pretty sure i won't have time on friday, and wan't to minimise panic). Made it to Euston, before my feet absolutely refused to cooperate. Wore normal boots with heels you see, not conducive to that much action. still - 4 miles! Through as many back alleys and quiet streets as possible. no stops, no drink, just put one foot after another. it was a pretty evening too, views of buildings with late afternoon sun, framed by trees were aplenty. soho was quieter than usual, but smelt delicious. Bloomsbury, immediately east of Totty Cotty road had sudden curves and fragments of bright colour, which left me amazed. I hadn't discovered it beyond the Brunswick before, and the Brunswick after all is grey. UOL put up a good show. Remembered old friends who went to different bits of the Barlett 2 years ago, and marvelled at how plugged into the london student scene their uni year must have been. Mine, at LSE, was pretty exclusive and isolated. I was plugged into London and the river, but not so much the wider student consciousness of the city. Just before I crossed Euston road and gave the feet some respite, i wondered at the variety of student experiences that could have been possible. Very fit drama students sat confidently on the steps of RADA. Maybe they'll be famous one day. They'll probably be more satisfied than say, consultants, as their line of work would probably fulfil their passionate artistic stirrings. The school of Tropical Hygiene looked sourly upon the street, probably full of students who were raring to leave england and do real time battle with the microbes of the tropics.
Once at Euston, Kings Cross wasn't far by bus. Then to Jaya's for a late dinner and a sip of the leftover competition Whisky. A comforting night with one of my urban families. Then home, in a hammersmith and City Line train with smelly stumbling drunks. No point judging them.
I've been distilling the reasons for my present way of life lately. i find that I live in london mostly because its very accessible aesthetic beauty makes me warm to it. Strangely, i feel more beautiful here as well. Walking past the city's reflective surfaces yesterday, with my straightened hair tied up in a ponytail and strategic locks falling across my face, i was the heroine of a thousand stories, the key to a thousand romances. My neck even looked delicate and slender. i hope that this isn't shallow.
So it was a nice walk. The jabbering of tourists and wailing of sirens were on the air, which blew every which way in the high wind. Near the bank, I read the plaque outside Bunhill Fields, the burial ground on City road, and immediately decided to include it the 'burial grounds of the City' walkabout that i'm planning for the weekend after edinburgh. Then i reluctantly got back to the office. Had a strange windfall when my team's impossible workload for the week was cut by a fifth. It may have made me reckless, as i left work in the evening hours before i meant to.
Ever attempting to dereeve, i set myself the goal of walking from Victoria to Kings Cross, where i had to pick up edinburgh tickets (pretty sure i won't have time on friday, and wan't to minimise panic). Made it to Euston, before my feet absolutely refused to cooperate. Wore normal boots with heels you see, not conducive to that much action. still - 4 miles! Through as many back alleys and quiet streets as possible. no stops, no drink, just put one foot after another. it was a pretty evening too, views of buildings with late afternoon sun, framed by trees were aplenty. soho was quieter than usual, but smelt delicious. Bloomsbury, immediately east of Totty Cotty road had sudden curves and fragments of bright colour, which left me amazed. I hadn't discovered it beyond the Brunswick before, and the Brunswick after all is grey. UOL put up a good show. Remembered old friends who went to different bits of the Barlett 2 years ago, and marvelled at how plugged into the london student scene their uni year must have been. Mine, at LSE, was pretty exclusive and isolated. I was plugged into London and the river, but not so much the wider student consciousness of the city. Just before I crossed Euston road and gave the feet some respite, i wondered at the variety of student experiences that could have been possible. Very fit drama students sat confidently on the steps of RADA. Maybe they'll be famous one day. They'll probably be more satisfied than say, consultants, as their line of work would probably fulfil their passionate artistic stirrings. The school of Tropical Hygiene looked sourly upon the street, probably full of students who were raring to leave england and do real time battle with the microbes of the tropics.
Once at Euston, Kings Cross wasn't far by bus. Then to Jaya's for a late dinner and a sip of the leftover competition Whisky. A comforting night with one of my urban families. Then home, in a hammersmith and City Line train with smelly stumbling drunks. No point judging them.
I've been distilling the reasons for my present way of life lately. i find that I live in london mostly because its very accessible aesthetic beauty makes me warm to it. Strangely, i feel more beautiful here as well. Walking past the city's reflective surfaces yesterday, with my straightened hair tied up in a ponytail and strategic locks falling across my face, i was the heroine of a thousand stories, the key to a thousand romances. My neck even looked delicate and slender. i hope that this isn't shallow.
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