I had to work in London yesterday. Or at least I tried to. I got up at 5.30am(!), reached the office at 7.45. Went into McDonalds for a traditional ‘working in London’ McMuffin. Felt a bit bloaty and decided against it. I needed something so I popped into Pret a Manger and got… and egg & bacon muffin. So basically the same thing.
Anyway, set up the meeting room for the event I was holding. Everyone turned up and started working. I wasn’t too pleased about the room; it was quite stuffy and there wasn’t much room. But all I really had to do was sit there until 5 while my attendees did the work they were there for.
Except at about 9.30 I didn’t feel well. After gagging a few times in the toilets, I thought something was amiss. The next four trips would end in me talking to the big porcelain telephone (I hope you understand the phrase, I don’t want to explain it). Somehow I shambled through until 1.30, set up the work so they could just finish it themselves, and made a run for it.
And so started my cannonball run back home. The London Underground is not a fun thing to use when you are worried about vomiting, thanks to its limited toilet facilities. So I was shaken around by the train, going through hot and cold flushes, nearly passing out near the escalators. But I made it to the train.
I’m glad nobody else needed to use that toilet, as whatever remained of my breakfast was leaving by any exit it could find. I made it to the home station, spent 20 minutes in a freezing toilet there, and managed to drive home before collapsing in a shivering wreck.
So that’s why I didn’t do a blog post yesterday 😦
I was going to post a vomiting video to gross you all out, but I don’t think I could watch it either, so here’s a cute kitty.