Other than Wednesday 17 and Friday 13, my bad day to be 21 on Thursday.
morning 7 am wake-up with colds, sore throats and broken bones. Heedless of the board "but stay at home" now that my boyfriend Chris (who does a lot Inglese) I prepare for the day dressed as un'esquimese. Wonderwoman's syndrome apart from today I have really important tasks to accomplish, such as going to retrieve mail from the old office (not to mention the manicure). Before moving to where we are now in fact, my company was located in the Docklands and there is' full of sharpers who continue to write to the old address (the last week I went there twice for a total of fifty envelopes) despite the death threats that are always sent in response. The risk 'that some important communication is lost, if not stolen by neighbors who were our associates before they arise "irreconcilable differences".
I connect on the website of Transport for London to find out that the subway more 'near my house and' suspended. Or decide to take a train to Tottenham Hale and then switch to the DLR to Stratford. Gia 'bad luck on the bus with me and as I crouch to pick up a notebook at the foot of a black girl in the driver's side stick and I'm practically lying on the floor between the legs of a guy all dressed in full and coat that not only does not deign to reach out for help, but I also look with some contempt. I get up and pretending not to hear the giggles coming from the back of the bus I offer the book to the very serious girl who says "It's not mine." Then the panic in London if you find an object or abandoned luggage and hand him over immediately to the authorities' competent risk serious penalties. The stations are plastered with posters threatening the speaker repeats ad infinitum "keep your belongings with you" and woe to one who knows what 'and that' unattended. At my stop soaking the notebook on the bus and running down without looking back. Arriving by train running on the track and there 's a train that is about to leave while the voice says that the on the next train from platform 1 will be 'one for Stratford. Come on, what luck! I climb on the fly and the doors close behind me. But I just got this train, what is' first class? While watching in amazement the white carpet that covers the floor and luxurious armchairs of coach where I went a horrible thought crosses my mind: why 'everything' and my 'family? "Excuse me please, this train is for Stratford?" "No, it's for Stansted ... They sound similar, are quite different But, ah ah ah ..." Paralysis and fixed the stranger catches me with hate. "You Should Get off at the next station and come back," he says. Come on? We have a Nobel on the train, all let this be known! The problem 'that "next station 'and' after 20 minutes ...
On the train back is my worst nightmare materializes in the form of the controller. With anxiety I learn that my oyster card is not 'valid on this route and the fare is £ 14.50 well. I only have £ 5 in your wallet. "Credit card?" - suggest the controller - ".. erm .. only italian credit card" I say with tears in his eyes. The story of the wrong train must sound like an excuse to his ears because 'walks away saying that this time passes, but the next I recommend buying a ticket! At least I did fine, and' already 'something! However, the fool again threw me into turmoil. After 5 minutes the Speaker announces that the train will not stop 'at Tottenham Hale 'cause the station and' closed. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry for the incredible delay that I'm accumulating run to take the subway and get off at Highbury and Islington where it passes the train to Stratford. Now there are even more 'astonished when I read that on the board for Straftford trains were canceled. I'll be back on the subway, and finally complete my journey with hours of delay and on a large nerve.
Then we complain in Italy ...