Tunnel vision

I'll come clean with you, Ploggers, it's all been a bit too much recently.  Nothing awful - in fact, quite the opposite, but plumber stress combined with work stress, combined with the usual day-to-day hurdles meant that - quite literally - the high point of my day on Tuesday was when the cat was sick under the bed at 7 a.m. and I had to crawl under the bed with the Vanish Carpet Stain Remover and scrub.  Things went downhill from that point.

So, it's hardly surprising that in the last few days, my temper has been fraying.  Now, I'm not really a shouter.  Mrs Nunn is a good shouter.  My brother, also, has his shouty moments.  I seem to have inherited Mr Nunn's skill for bottling it all up... and in my case at the very least, taking it out on public transport.

It has been alleged that on Monday this week at 8.14 a.m., on the London Underground at Stratford Station, I stampeded a man out of the way.  I concede I was trying to get off the tube.  He wasn't moving.  Just standing in front of the doors.  To be fair, there wasn't much space for him to move to.  So I had to barge past so I could get off at my stop.  TheBloke (TM), who was sitting next to me, tells me that after I stampeded the man out of the way, he too got off the train.  And everyone else tutted at the rude woman who'd shoved her way past.

Oh dear.  Well, these isolated incidents happen in the capital I guess.

Except on Tuesday at 8.32 a.m. I was on the Jubilee Line and had just reached my destination at Canary Wharf.  Again, I needed to get off the train.  I did so, but as I alighted, I felt something plastic make contact with my hand and I heard a clatter.  I looked back in case I had dropped something.  I turned round just in time to see the train doors closing and an angry-looking woman whose coffee Thermos had just been knocked on the floor.  By me.  The train had gone before I could apologise.  Also, I didn't really want to.  She was in my way.

So it's interesting to note that currently the artist Michael Landy is running a project to gather the random acts of kindness that happen on the tube.  You can see more information here.  I think it's a good job Michael isn't asking me to contribute my thoughts. This week my greatest act of kindness would be:

I spent a total of seven hours on public transport this week and I did not stab anyone, not even the irritating Essex girl with massive hoop earrings on the phone OR the fat woman who oozed onto my seat.


Please send awards and accolades to the usual address.