Today I left work just after 5pm and got home just before seven.
TWO FUCKING HOURS
For a journey that involves a five minute lift from work to the train station, 15/ 20 mins train journey then a ten minute walk to my house.
Because, apparently, there were "trespassers on the line".
Of course the train didn't stop at an actual station, where I could've gotten off and got a bus. Oh no.
It stopped just before the fucking station so I, and all the other passengers, were trapped.
Held hostage on a train by what was no doubt a couple of kids thinking it was entertaining to get on the tracks.
People who mean to kill themselves tend to wait until the train is approaching then jump out at the last minute. They don't go for an afternoon stroll and a picnic down the track.
Yup, had to be kids.
Personally I wouldn't of stopped the trains.
The fucktards would no doubt get off the line pretty damn quick when they see a fucking great train heading towards them.
You can bet had they been injured their parents would've been looking for compensation from the train company. I have to wonder at the mentality of kids that think it's fun to do dangerously stupid stuff like that, and why ? But I've already written enough about my opinions of what causes a lot of the problems with young people in general so I'm not gonna get started on that again.
I'm home, I've eaten and calm has been restored.
Albeit two hours late.
However the calm, tidy, peaceful environment I call home is about to be royally shattered in about an hours time.
The progeny is coming home for a month.
Yeah it will be nice to see him, but by the time I get home from work tomorrow the drum kit will be reassembled, every cup in the house will be dirty (why does he need a clean cup EVERY time he gets a drink - I just rinse out the one already used), and my new table will be piled up with crap.
Tomorrow I might deliberately be late home.
In fact I might walk home. . . just follow the train tracks
Still every cloud and all that.
I now have someone to
And his cat will stop yowling at me.
If you ever want a really peaceful life NEVER get a Siamese cat.
Actually it's quite bizarre, Son and his cat seem to have a psychic connection. When he first moved in April his cat disappeared for about a week, I wasn't too worried at first as I have another one that often does this - they do say all cats have at least one other home - and since I hadn't seen either I presumed they were together. But when it got to over a week I was concerned and messaged Son.
He said he'd "send him a message".
This was about 11pm, an hour later I went into the kitchen and both 'missing' cats were sat on the table.
|He does look a bit like this. . .|
Until today I had not seen the cat again for about four days, I came home this evening - did I mention TWO HOURS LATE Grrrr - and he was sat on the doorstep waiting.
Right now he's sat on the back of the sofa and he hasn't taken his eyes off the front door.
He knows Son is coming home.
At least one of us is looking forward to the impending chaos.
I have to go - guess who has just text me and said he has no English money on him and so can I pay for the taxi from the station.
And you can bet no cunt is gonna jump out in front of his train and delay my emptying purse.
Looks like the Bank Of Mum is back in business.
Don't bother copying my details - the account will be empty by tomorrow.
Off to the cashpoint I go. . . .
Wish I'd seen this a few years ago. Might change the word teenager to twenty something's and print it off - just in case he stays too long.
Update : re missing cats.
The comment from Fraser reminded me of this http://www.27bslash6.com/missy.html