Monday 10 July 2006

stolen time

I’m not going into the office this week. It feels like I’ve stolen some time and temporarily escaped.

The train is virtually empty. I’ve missed the morning rush hour flurry of suits, briefcases and other organisational uniforms by minutes. The chaos spewed out of the train and passed through and out of the station just before I arrived. The employed have found their rightful places at work now, behind computers, tills, counters and catering equipment and I will not being joining them. As I pull out of the Station the cogs and wheels and faxes and photocopiers of the city institutions begin to whir.

This stolen time seems to last much longer than normal time and I savor it along with the view, the solitude and the air conditioned comfort of the carriage. The music being played into my ears – a none-specific ‘classical’ CD salvaged from the very bottom shelf of my collection – is refreshing as I have not heard it for years. I’m no classical music connoisseur but it seems to fit with the decadence of my journey. I gaze out of the window, winding my way across to the bottom of Britain and out into the valleys of South Wales.

The packed lunch that I so frequently eat at my desk at work will also take on a new appeal when I pop open my lunch box and set out my sandwiches on the table in front on me. Today I can eat these at my leisure rather than hurrying them down, keeping an eye on my computer screen and one hand on the keyboard.

The weather forecast this morning said HEATWAVE so I’m wearing my most light weight dress. It’s not as warm as the weather report predicted but it’s nice to be cool and unrestricted. The dress is a very old one, probably from the 80’s, most people would not dare wear it as it’s so far out of fashion, it suits me though as I’ve never been in fashion. I like the Laura Ashleyesque floral pattern and the cut of the fabric shows off my curves. The skirt skims off my hips and ripples around my knees as I walk. My calves protrude from the bottom of the dress, the cut of the cloth is generous and it swamps me. I feel small in this oversized skirt, and young again.

Luxury knows no bounds as I settle into reading the last few chapters of my book. I have been racing towards the end of the story and anticipate the mysteries that will be revealed in the last few pages. Will they find what they’re looking for? Will they fall in love? I get lost in my book and make progress toward the end with a ferocity and a focus absent from my bedtime reading.

I like the steady rhythm of the train and the containment of my moulded plastic seat. I am safe, and I am on my way.

7 comments:

Joanne Hartley said...

Hello lettuceleaf! How nice of you to notice. I couldn't access your blog to reciprocate with a comment.

Creatures without Tales said...

love your relaxing journey sounds lush even packed lunch made me feel nostalgic. And made me remember for summer dresses once worn and now just worn memories. crikey that last bit was a bit mills and boon.

enjoy your break and try and take lunch away from your desk in future. (do I sound like your auntie?)

Anonymous said...

was it the whit dress with the red flowers?

Anonymous said...

sorry, i meant white dress with red flowers?

Joanne Hartley said...

how did you know about the dress posterboyforretards? Who are you?

Anonymous said...

because mochyn bach - if it's the right one, then it actually used to suit me and was very comfortable.

splendid blogging.

(posterboy for retards)

Joanne Hartley said...

I thought it might have been you! You remember that dress! That's really funny.

I'm really glad you are reading. YEAY!