It’s snowing in London at the moment and it’s also bloody freezing. Needless to say I have no heating or hot water in my flat.
In fact, yesterday was a pretty diabolical day all round, really. We’ve just moved to new premises at work, so we’ve had to install and set up new phone and internet lines. We’re situated underneath some railway arches right next to Waterloo station, and in order to install the new lines we had to access Network Rail’s “communication centre”. This is no mean feat, mainly because no one at Network Rail knows where it is. Then when you find it, it’s locked and no one knows who has the key. At one point there was even talk of having to go and walk along the lines and down the tunnel to get the job done.
Somehow we managed to gain access; the room was large, dark and freezing cold. The BT engineer then had to go back to his van – presumably to get blankets and wood for the fire or something – and I ended being stranded there for 2 hours waiting for him. Apparently the bastard got lost. I couldn’t leave the room otherwise we’d be locked out, and at one point I honestly feared that I would die in that room and I’d be found the next day; frozen like Jack Nicholson at the end of The Shining.
I got home to find no heating or hot water, as already mentioned. I didn’t know this at the time though so I ran a bath. I got in, and promptly leapt back out again, only to knock a full glass of red wine all over the bathroom floor. It looked like a scene from Psycho. I had to desperately scrub up all the wine stains like a frantic Norman Bates.
Then, just to top off the day nicely, I sliced the palm of my hand open cutting up some mushrooms. A fountain of blood arced across my pizza. Lovely.
To end on a bright note, here’s a link to some snow pictures I took in London last year. They’re in the cemetery, obviously.