The danger of writing in the morning is that all my posts could easily become a saga about what has become a daily epic journey across London. There would be moments of pure delight and hearty laughter but mostly you'd be asking "Why do they live in London, again?" So for your benefit (and for my sanity) I am going to keep the morning journey saga to a minimum.
I woke this morning with my mom's voice ringing in my ears. For years I listened to her say, "its a school night, you aren't going to..." I hated the lecture that followed my persistence requests to go to where ever I had to be on that particular Wednesday at 11 pm. I don't remember the exact words but it was something like... If you could stay out late and still get up tomorrow without bitching and moaning then I would let you go. My argument would continue, But mom I can get up and I won't bitch and moan. I can close my own eyes now and picture my mother's eyes rolling like no teenager could ever even hope to duplicate. My mom knew the truth and there was no way she was going to deal with her spoiled rotten 16 year old daughter at 6 am without bitching and moaning.
So why was I left lying in bed thinking about this at 6 o'clock this morning? I went out last night. Defiant and confident that I would have no trouble getting up and making it in for my normal 8:30 start sans bitching or moaning. Not the first time I've set out to prove my mother wrong only to realise the lady was far smarter than her 16 year old daughter gave her credit for all those years ago. Somewhere Deb is looking down on me wiggling about with pointer fingers extended towards the sky doing a ridiculous victory dance and chanting "I was right!"
And in case you were wondering... It is 8:55 am and I am currently stuck on the jubilee line with 6 stops to go. The driver just informed us that there is a defective train ahead and we won't be moving for awhile. I am bitching, moaning and late. 0 for 3 on this Thursday morning. Dance away mom...
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