![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolI am not dead. In fact, other than a sore throat and a stomach that is adamant that no, it really doesn't want any food for now or indeed the next few hours, a mild headache and slightly achey limbs, I am feeling remarkably not dead. I did not, at any point, hallucinate about dinosaurs, or anything else for that matter. I actually can't sleep, because I'm so very caught up on it; rather, I am sat on Simon's computer, hiding from his housemates, as, you know, I'm not entirely sure how many of them actually know I'm here and might be alarmed to see me pottering around in their kitchen. Besides, I have no idea how their kitchen works, and I'm quite liking the luxury of Simon's room right now. No damp for this house, oh no. It's a lovely little basement room, which is small and yet has a lot of space and I am trying very hard not to be envious.
It is, however, a minor miracle that I am here at all. I boarded the train with no problems at Leuchars, noted the usual ten minutes delay at Edinburgh - I prepared for that, you see! I made sure I have at least 20 minutes changeover time! - and then, um, got stuck at Doncaster. For forty-five minutes.
Oh dear.
However, these things happen. It is not anyone's fault if the train has a technical fault, and since I'd rather not die in the process of trying to make a connection, I very calmly went to find the train manager. This sort of thing happens a lot, and every time, I've normally been told where to change and roughly what time I can expect to find my connection.
This time, I was given a very vague "Your best bet is Steveange!" and that was it. Well, they're busy, and I know there's normally a regular King's Cross-Cambridge route that goes through there, so I ignored my initial feelings to get off at Peterborough and turn up at Cambridge for 11.30 and instead carried on until Stevenage.
Where I discovered a rail replacement bus service to some place called Royston. By this point, the flu had decided it would be a funny time to come back, so there I was, shaking and shivering and trying very hard not to cry from the pain in my head and the general feelings of frustration at GNER. Luckily, I made it to Royston and then sat on the train with other angry looking commuters for twenty minutes until it finally left the station.
I eventually made it to Cambridge just before midnight.
I am writing an angry letter. I have never before written an angry letter but I feel that now is as good a time as any. Also, next time? So not doing this late at night. Bollocks to my last history lecture, I don't care that much.
However, I am now here, and that is what should be remembered. I have met two of Simon's housemates, and I have, you know, met the others but I'm not entirely sure they will appreciate me rattling around, so I am instead going to trundle around the internet for a time, which seems like as good an option as any. Besides, Simon is always a good thing, even if he is currently suffering through lectures.
Also, due to long train journey, all I have left to read is 'Crime and Punishment'. This seems unfair.
~Hathy_Col~
It is, however, a minor miracle that I am here at all. I boarded the train with no problems at Leuchars, noted the usual ten minutes delay at Edinburgh - I prepared for that, you see! I made sure I have at least 20 minutes changeover time! - and then, um, got stuck at Doncaster. For forty-five minutes.
Oh dear.
However, these things happen. It is not anyone's fault if the train has a technical fault, and since I'd rather not die in the process of trying to make a connection, I very calmly went to find the train manager. This sort of thing happens a lot, and every time, I've normally been told where to change and roughly what time I can expect to find my connection.
This time, I was given a very vague "Your best bet is Steveange!" and that was it. Well, they're busy, and I know there's normally a regular King's Cross-Cambridge route that goes through there, so I ignored my initial feelings to get off at Peterborough and turn up at Cambridge for 11.30 and instead carried on until Stevenage.
Where I discovered a rail replacement bus service to some place called Royston. By this point, the flu had decided it would be a funny time to come back, so there I was, shaking and shivering and trying very hard not to cry from the pain in my head and the general feelings of frustration at GNER. Luckily, I made it to Royston and then sat on the train with other angry looking commuters for twenty minutes until it finally left the station.
I eventually made it to Cambridge just before midnight.
I am writing an angry letter. I have never before written an angry letter but I feel that now is as good a time as any. Also, next time? So not doing this late at night. Bollocks to my last history lecture, I don't care that much.
However, I am now here, and that is what should be remembered. I have met two of Simon's housemates, and I have, you know, met the others but I'm not entirely sure they will appreciate me rattling around, so I am instead going to trundle around the internet for a time, which seems like as good an option as any. Besides, Simon is always a good thing, even if he is currently suffering through lectures.
Also, due to long train journey, all I have left to read is 'Crime and Punishment'. This seems unfair.
~Hathy_Col~
