So before I went to bed last night, I watched the relatively short snowfall and thought, ‘hmm, that’s annoying, I have a train to catch in the morning. But it’ll be ok, it’s not that much I suppose’. Then I awake this morning to find I have somehow left Manchester and awoken at Everest base camp. Good god. I’ve never had to actively seek out a taxi on Oxford Road, it just doesn’t happen. I held on for dear life during the ride to the station, taxi drivers + snow = a very scary ride indeed. But to give him his due, I arrived safe, and I even tipped the thieving bastard ten pence (even if it was because I was in a rush and he was fumbling to find it).
I wouldn’t usually dream of writing to you whilst on the move, however my only other option is to look out of the window, and I care very little to look upon field after field of white any longer. I could, of course, try to strike up a conversation with those around me. Only one problem lies with that though – I’m not mental. There is always that one person who starts a conversation on a train, much to the dismay of their fellow passengers. I saw this in action when coming into Manchester on Monday, and thoroughly enjoyed watching from afar as those around this enigma of a man squirmed, reeking of being incredibly uncomfortable.
I’m sorry it’s been such a long time since I wrote last, but honestly, I lead a dull life. And I haven’t had nearly enough inclination to sit down and think of something interesting to write. Hopefully this will suffice.
It has been odd to read posts on Facebook and such from those currently at school. Such posts that, not even a year ago, I would have happily joined in with and celebrated. Posts which shout delight at the snow and herald it as a miracle, closing schools and giving days off left, right and centre. But now I look at them with dismay, to anyone in the real world (that is of course if you would class University as the’ real world’) snow is a nightmare. It is cold, wet and makes transport in England crumble. After last winter especially, many have grown to loathe it.
You have to feel sorry in some part for these poor Southerners as well who have come from warmer climates, from the reactions I have seen them give, you would think they were all from the Middle East or some such and that cold weather was unheard of to them. So when I say we should feel sorry for them in part, that part is that they’re just soft. Then again, this is coming from the one sat in a Royal Navy greatcoat, scarf and snow boots. Hypocrisy thy name is...
Right, well, I seem to be drawing closer to Leeds, so I’d better pack away my laptop lest a chav jump me for it. I wonder what the weather is doing here? Oh, it’s snowing, what a surprise.
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