I was up early yesterday  morning, about 05:10. I laid in bed, revelling in  the warmth of  the duvet and putting off the time I had to rejoin the human race. The kids had an INSET day (I’m assured that’s how it’s supposed to written, in CAPITALS), and TW would be looking after them, so it was like they had an extended weekend, and I was the only one to step back onto the treadmill. TW had even volunteered to look after some of our neighbours’ children, but she had advised them that she would still be in bed when they arrived at 08:15. So it was just me getting back into the “routine”.
So, I played Candy Crush, and completed my daily challenge on Temple Run 2. I dismissed the idea of going for a run. Then, as it got closer to 06:30, I got up and had a shave. I did intend to get up and iron a shirt too, but the warmth of the duvet prevented me. And my own lethargy. let’s not pretend. After all, I did read once in Dune that (as a ruler) if you rule on a subject, you will be forever expected to rule on that subject. And the way I’ve integrated that into my own life, is that if I ever do anything, I will be forever expected to do that thing. So although it might look like I have adopted the philosophy and the lifestyle of the sloth, I am merely managing other peoples’ expectations, and reducing future demands and expectations on my time.
Anyway, time passed, and it was time to get up properly, so I showered, dressed and went downstairs and made myself breakfast. I did consider making myself a chilli wrap, but decided not to, in the interests of getting to work early. And that’s when things started to go wrong…
I was considering going into work late yesterday, due to the fact that I had to post a comic off to an eBay buyer. The Post Office doesn’t open until 08:30, so getting into Brighton any earlier than 08:20 is a bit silly. But, as I mentioned earlier, the girls were on a day off, and so I made it to the station by 07:39. I looked at the arrivals board and saw that the next train was due at 08:39, so I chuckled to myself and told me that they had got their timezones wrong, or they hadn’t taken account of British Summer Time (BST). But then I looked at the announcement below, and it seemed that someone had been hit by a train near Angmering, so actually the times given were correct. Dammit.
Of course I looked on Twitter to see what Southern Railways were saying, and they mentioned that SWT (Southwestern Trains) might be running normally. I normally catch the SWT train from Worthing station at 07:59, so I thought I could probably make it to there by 07:59. I bumped into a work colleague as I walked off West Worthing station and explained the situation, and we walked together to Worthing station.
Worthing was no better; all the trains were delayed. As it was, the first train arrived at about 08:15, It was too crowded for me to get on, so I bid my companion good luck, and I waited for the next train. Five minutes or so later, I was heading eastwards, with my own seat, with my earpods jammed deep in my ear canals, and I travelled to work in comfort. It was only as we drew closer to Brighton that I looked around and realised that my train was as busy, if not more busy, than the previous train which I had refused.
Eventually, after dropping in at the Post Office, I managed to get into the office at 09:15. It was a shitty day, made up of bits and pieces, and my mind was concentrated not on work, but on the person hit by the train at 05:18 this morning.
I have no idea how anyone can get into the state where throwing oneself under a train is the best way out. I can’t see that anyone should ever get into the position where they feel they have no-one to talk to, and if people feel that they have no support, I am sorry for that. Flippantly, if I was going to commit suicide, I think Monday morning might be the optimal time because then at least you avoid the treadmill of the week at work. I imagine that the guy worked in London; can you imagine a journey of two hours (from Angmering) to a job you hated, only to spend two hours travelling home again at the end of the day, in order to go to bed and sleep so that you could get up and travel to London the next day? And that’s assuming  the guy was of sound mind and not depressed, where these challenges take on disproportionate importance. It may be that the journey had become such a symbol of all that was wrong with the guy’s life that he couldn’t take it any more. But conversely he must have experienced those days when the trains were disrupted by a jumper. I’m not saying we shouldn’t know that someone has decided to end it all, but disrupting the south coast train network for one person is a bit disproportionate.
Anyway, it wasn’t me. So that’s a plus.

TTFN.

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