Land of a thousand smells.

As much as I would like to divulge something intelligible and interesting, it is either one or the other and I'm still vaguely intelligible, or at least I hope so. I would wax lyrical about how I love what I'm doing right now but I don't know if your stomachs are strong enough and I'm not sure it counts as interesting.

I had my first experience of true 'tube crush' today. Coming home from work tonight, something was up with the Central line, most likely leaves on the line after our freak weather for the last 24 hours. Trains were only running every ten minutes at rush hour and as the train pulled into the station, the windows were a sea of black winter coats and sweaty faces, rammed uncomfortably close and I mean close. I had an awful moment between Marble Arch and Lancaster Gate where I was surrounded by four rather sweaty men whose armpits were exactly at eye level, about two inches from my face and my stomach began to turn from the smell. Thankfully, my stomach did not go through with its' threats but I think that the less said about it the better.

That's about as exciting as it's going to get tonight. The exhaustion of work coupled with Underground trauma means I need to go and lie face down on a beanbag for a while.