Londoners today experienced what some would call ‘Spring’ , and what others would call ’13 Degrees celsius’.
I was never one to overly complain about our weather here. It simply is what it is: Shit.
We get some months (two at best) of pleasant sunshine, one month of autumn, and the rest is winter. There are times I feel strangely proud of this; proud that we have a ‘take it or leave it’ climate that doesn’t mess around.
And then there are times like last week.
The day was no different to others that had come before it. It was raining (horizontal rain) and windy; the kind of wind that hits you with debris and leaves from all angles and makes no apology. It was cold. The events that followed are, I believe, what contributed to my breaking down several hours later:
– I went out to get my breakfast of greek yoghurt and honey (my new ‘thing’) from the local store. They were out of greek yoghurt.
– I headed back in to work empty handed. Cold. Wet.
– I pressed the buzzer for the door to open and was slapped by another twig before the doors opened to let me in (crucial moment right there).
Once back in the office, the girl I sit next to who gave me the weird yeast mixture ( you might remember her from an earlier episode ) informed me that she was leaving, for good.
We were acquaintances at best, but confronted with the reality that I will be spending my time in the office alone was all of a sudden terrifying. I didn’t want her to leave. I imagined myself in the same job 10 years from now, looking at my fake potted plants, typing emails, listening to the same radio stations, and jumping to answer the phone after the first ring.
I left work early that day. 6 hours early.
Fortunately the rest of the week brought better news (much better news), better weather, and everyone thought I had been to a 6 hour meeting.