Blogue d'un québécois expatrié en Angleterre. Comme toute forme d'autobiographie est constituée d'une large part de fiction, j'ai décidé de nommer le blogue Vraie Fiction.
Monday, 3 December 2012
When the trains run late
If the title sounds familiar, it is because I used it before. At least twice. Let's see if I can be original. Two weeks in a row, the train arrived late in my commute to work. It also ran late on my commute back from work last Friday, but not by very much. Sometimes, it turns it my day into something miserable. Today, I was lucky enough, it didn't make it any worse. Not that it was a great day, it is Monday after all, but it didn't make me too late to work. And I had plenty of time to read, which is always nice. This is why sometimes I hope for trains to run late. Something struck me this morning when I was waiting and waiting for the train to arrive: commuters didn't seem upset or angry. True, the wait was not that long and it was not necessary to have a shuttle bus or a taxi service to come to pick us up. Still, it was strange to see the many resigned faces. Maybe people simply have their minds set on something else than work, and don't care much this time of year about getting to work late.