A Very Odd Journey

My journey home from work today (which, incidentally, this week is taking place at Hotcourses in Hammersmith) was a rather peculiar one.

I've been a little tired from lots of late nights, partly because the first installment of the book I've been writing is due on Wednesday and - of course - I'm not ready to hand it over. Also thanks to a particularly bad hangover (that Loaf, he forces you to drink wine at gunpoint, you know) and a trip home to see the parentals, and other things besides.

Working at Hotcourses, just to veer off track, is a giggle because it's also the stomping ground of the beauteous Yaz, who has been mostly launching bits of rolled up paper at me. I have also been introduced to the infamous, intriguing Secret Starbucks (often mentioned: here) - a place she and Tim frequent that could barely be situated closer to the absolute centre of town, but is somehow completely hidden from public view and always has free tables. I am one of the cool kids now, with a pass to the secret den. IDV will seethe with jealousy.

So anyway, back to the journey. Because of all this tiredness I decided to have a little nap, with my headphones on. Unfortunately I couldn't relax because a little old lady opposite me kept glancing up at me in what seemed a terribly disapproving manner.

Assuming she was narked by the volume of my music, I thoughtfully turned it down. Repeatedly. Until I couldn't hear it myself and was tutting inwardly at the fuss she was clearly making about nothing.

But when I stood up to leave the train and happened to glance down at said little old lady, I had a bit of a shock - all that time she had actually been doing the most amazing sketch of me on a little piece of paper.

Now I know from paying attention to Lessons With Lorna that artists pick their subjects for the horns, wrinkles and nobbles, but we'll just let that bit go, shall we?