Ah.
After the London Comedy festival New Act shenanigans yesterday finished with me getting in from an all night drinking den at 3am, getting up at 6.30 for work didn’t seem like a viable option.
But amazingly I did get up on time (amazingly? Fucking Miraculous more like .Ed (I’ve always wanted to put an ‘ed’ comment in, though we all know it’s just me that does this website, therefore the ed comment has made me a precocious wanker.) Apologies. Ed)
I was at work for seven, needing lots of coffee (thank god its free) and not much work.
The day skipped by in a dream like world.
By the time I left I was actually in a coma.
I got on the tube, the seats seemed to made out of something very comfortable and, for the sake of comedy, a bit funny, but I’m still quite tired as I write this.
The tube was pulled in at West Hampstead, only three stops away, I knew I had to stay awake, but my head was slowly tilting backwards, my mouth was open. I must have looked like a (again, witty reference here, but I’m so tired all I can think of is rapist).
I was asleep. The next stop, Kilburn, approached, the announcement woke me up in a jerky panicky way (I may have yelped) then saw I was only at Kilburn and I relaxed. Relaxed into sleep that is.
Next thing I knew a man in a blue hat was talking to me.
It wasn’t a dream, he wasn’t a smurf (they have white hats) he was a tube driver type person. I’d fallen asleep, the train had reached the end of the line. Oh dear.
Luckily the train had terminated at Willesden Green, I was home.
Hooray