Friday, 6 September 2013

When the going gets tough...

...the tough burst in to tears.

I'm not proud of that, more in a bit. I barely slept last night, it was the little things that got to me. The pen I was given for my 21st by the nearly-ex, a little mirror I've had for maybe 15 years, the tiny diary I track mine and my flatmate's cycles with, lip balm, but the worst of all is something that didn't even belong to me, a simple hair clip.

I feel so bad about that, words can't even begin to describe it.

Fortunately this morning the first person I spoke to was a female friend, who forced a coffee on me and then listened as I blubbed and explained, at least that got things out of the system to an extent as I was still shaking like an actual shaky leaf. She also explained to the boss that there had been an unexpected arrival in the night...

Still, I had my brolly, Nexus and a hairbrush so I could at least go out, contact people and make myself look marginally less scary. And my friend leant me a top and offered the contents of her make up bag so I could at least distract people from the obvious crying-all-night look I'd adopted. Having disrupted the peace I headed off to work with said boss having already emailing my apartment agents and calling the nearly-ex's work to pass on an out-of-touch message...

...and then realised I didn't have a fan. I suffer with hot flushes, I need a hand-fan. Oh lordy.

No email from the agent.


So I did a little work whilst also revoking app permissions and changing passwords for various things, so I have months of screaming at devices to come when I can't recall what I've set anything to. Also, fortunately, I have spare HRT pills and patches at the office, so I could stop my hormones spinning out of control.

Or so I thought.

By now, after blowing £8.80 on a day travelcard, I was down to £8.50 which I knew I'd need to get a new Oyster. So, off to Oxford Circus I went...

...and stood in a queue with frightful colonials wanting to buy 4 one day travelcards and other such frippery. Now I must have misread that I could get this done at the ticket office but you *can't* get your stuff transferred to a new card there. I'm sure I did this once before after losing a card in Farringdon, but that was two years ago so I guess things have changed. Okay, so £5 and, I was disgusted to learn, I had to fill in a form... Could I borrow a pen? *blank face*. At this point I went in to the full my bag was stolen last night I have neither a Oyster, phone, purse, telephone or indeed a pen. He sort of through one at me, though I suspect it was more to make me run away than to loan the pen.


Filling in the form was fun. Major shakes have settled in and, of course, my chuffing glasses were in the bag, so reading is a little tricky. Especially as my eyes were now filling again.

I just about managed to hold it together in the queue and, fortunately, ended up with a different ticket person who had just opened his window. Really fortunate as it turned out. So he took the details, did the bits, I waved the £5 at him and...
How much do you want it topped up? Minimum is £5
I looked at him. I looked at the little plastic bag that was now my purse. I looked at him. I looked at the bag. I had £3.50
I've only got £3.50, can't I just have it empty? 
No, sorry, against the rules. 
And I burst in to tears. FFS
My bag was stolen last night, not only do I not have my Oyster I don't have a phone, purse, cards, nothing. This is literally all I have on me and I have no way of getting any cash, which means my £1216 travelcard will remain out of my reach until I can get some and even then I'll have to try and get around, I really can't do a ten mile walk every day. Look I have the card number and everything can't you do something?
For maximum effect imagine that being said without any spaces as tears roll down my face and I was getting increasingly hysterical. And then pleading.

Not my finest moment.

But serendipity struck a second time and it turns out Harry from TFL was a good sort and broke the rules. I really hope he doesn't get in to trouble and if he happens to read this and he does then I hope he gets in touch so I can give TFL a PR headache. I can't call the helpline until about 3pm to get the stuff transferred.

So, with £3.50 left I shuffled out in to the rain to cry my way back to the office as things were rushing round my head once more.

Hence now I'm trying to get the right number to call from the agents, I really would like some keys as, well, things are difficult without them. Really difficult.

On the bright side I did hear back from my knight in shining dinner suit, well, wasn't shining, it was really nicely cut. His reply:

De Nada. The world isn't totally "dark"!

Pass the tissues someone. 

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