Slow and steady

Definitely not referring to my gut last night, but I'm assuming it would be far too uncouth to supply the minute details?

Today I have reached the conclusion that I was born in the wrong era and more rightfully belong in the 1920's, when slapstick was at it's peak.  Although the dress styles wouldn't have suited...flapper fashion being an absolute nightmare with my elephantitis legs.  No in that respect I well and truly belong in the 17th Century when it was all corsets and cleavage - I have plenty of that.  

I am referring to the fact I am a walking disaster....my lack of co-ordination and inability to think things through astounds even me.  Last week you'll remember I whacked my head on the train, this afternoon I actually fell over in the aisle.    I was sitting on one of the pull down seats near the doors when I decided to empty my bag of any rubbish.  I stood up and reached across to put said rubbish in bin opposite and completely forgot that the seat automatically flips up when not weighted with anything.  Went to sit back down again and fell flat on my big fat bottom in a heap on the floor.   It wouldn't have felt half as bad if any of my fellow passengers had actually laughed, but instead they did (once again) that hideously British thing of plain ignoring it.   Thus laying on the floor in a fit of raucous laughter shared only by myself, I felt ever so slightly ridiculous.  I hate the Britishness of Britons sometimes.  Well all the time actually.  Chillax folks.

Still it was an improvement on yesterday's train back from Brum for which I travelled  the entire journey on the loo.  I had gone straight in there on boarding as I was feeling unwell, then later when I tried to get out, the door was blocked by bodies.  Not dead ones thankfully, just thousands of passengers rammed one after another unable to move.   Several were looking at me entirely mortified when I produced my head from inside the cublicle, then I heard an anonymous "oh for God's sake this just takes the rip" obviously someone disgusted that I was considering adding to their crampedness.  And so I decided to lock myself back in for as long as I could stand the smell, train toilets being amongst some of the most disgusting you're likely to encounter this side of the globe. 

When I finally emerged from the toilet the stench of sweaty bodies in the corridor was as bad if not worse than the stink of the sanibins. I am beginning to understand why so many commuters are continually up in arms about the train service - non deodorised arms may I add.  Perhaps a law banning people with B.O. from travelling might be a step in the right direction.

Today was actually my first taste of working for Kaplan, doing a spot of invigilation, to cover the cost of the studies I've been doing with them.  And no invigilation is not a fancy word for cleaning.  I am actually supervising examinations which is a brilliant job requiring absolutely zero effort.  Just had to sit in a room full of Accountants completing online exams and ensure that no-one cheated.  Simples.  The only nasty part was telling those with poor results that they had failed.   I think I may have mentioned before that I have a major problem with nervous laughter, one which would most definitely prevent me entering in to any caring profession.   I will never forget at age 11 seeing my best friend get run over and standing at the side of the road in a fit of laughter.  I also remember the (guilty) driver telling me I should be disgusted with myself because of my insensitivity.  Shame I hadn't been bold enough to state the obvious, that running a child over is something worthy of self-disgust not giggly style shock.   I simply can't help myself.  So yes, I told one chap he had failed and then proceeded to laugh because telling him was making me anxious.   Fingers crossed he's not a manic depressive.

The slow and steady reference was to the final finisher.  I waited ages for her to complete the test and was beginning to feel rather apprehensive because she looked to me like she may be struggling.  Most of the group had finished within an hour but forty five minutes later she was still there going over and over her answers.  Now I appreciate that in a physical sense "slow and steady wins the race" is probably not a literal occurance but in this case it was more than true.  To my surprise she received the highest mark of the group by quite a significant margin which made me think I really need to learn to slow down and focus on the detail, in all aspects of my life.  Perhaps that is the key to success.

Anyway the diet is finally paying off.  I am at the lowest I have been for a year which is brill.  Still a lump, but a lump which is reducing and shall look super hot by the summer (well to someone who is partially sighted anyway).  I actually bought myself a new dress this afternoon, in a smaller size than usual, although I haven't yet tried it on.  I am scared that when I do it won't get past my head.  A rather large snood then.

Oh well, here goes.

x x