One of those hateful running-home-from-work things

I go to work and by 9:53 my boss has started swearing at me for something REALLY TRIVIAL and by 10:00 he has apologised for swearing at me for something REALLY TRIVIAL but it’s pissed me off and the rest of the day doesn’t go much better and people are annoying and having their stupid inane grandmother meetings round my pod and I think can’t you go and have your inane conversations somewhere else? and I take my iPod for a walk at lunchtime and go round the block and get back marginally more chilled out and for once it’s quiet at lunchtime and people aren’t having their really loud inane conversations that they have at lunchtime when they feel they have the freedom to be really loud which I suppose they do really but it’s still fucking annoying and the only light relief comes later when I find out that four more people are leaving which means that ten people have now defected to another firm and I find that really funny and I wonder if they’ll give me a job as it must be good over there and I go to do my running-home-from-work-thing and my boss comes over and says are you running home? and I say yes and he says that’s keen and I think aaaaaarrrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhh I hate the word keen and why do people insist on using that stupid word but I can’t think of another word except for eager but that’s just as bad and running home isn’t keen, it’s called training except in my case it would be better off being called taking-the-long-way-home-when-it-would-be-much-easier-and-quicker-to-get-on-the-train-instead-although-there-are-people-on-the-train-and-I’m-not-being-much-of-a-people-person-today and I go to run home and I have to walk almost to Angel before my Garmin decides to get a signal but at least then I don’t have to run up the hill and all the way down Essex Road are women with their stupid babies in their stupid buggies getting in my way and I’m thinking are babies in buggies the new cyclists? and I get to the end of Essex Road where it joins Balls Pond Road and a cyclist goes through the red light and I give him a dirty look and he sees me give him a dirty look so I complete the I’m-a-miserable-cow effect by calling him a wanker but it has no discernible effect so I carry on doing my running thing and I’m trying to go through the puddles to cool down my feet which are burning as I think I need new trainers and I had a record three black toenails the other day but the puddles aren’t deep enough to go over the top of my trainers and I get to Murder Mile and there’s a cyclist on the pavement but I keep it zipped due to Murder Mile being called Murder Mile for obvious reasons although I’m not entirely sure the reasons are to do with cantankerous female joggers being murdered due to swearing at cyclists but I keep schtum to be on the safe side and it’s getting dark and I think I can’t go through the path I’m too scared and I’ll have to go past Somerfield but I do need some cat food but can I go to Somerfield without buying wine too? and I think no, I can’t, in fact I think it might be illegal so I go to Somerfield and buy wine and fuck, it’s nice.  Yah.


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