Account Of A Fangirl

I got up early Thursday morning. I got up earlier than I've been up since September.

So that was still only 7:30. It was still a big deal for me. My earliest lecture this semester was at 9, and I can be early for an on-the-hour lecture having left the house at past 5 minutes to. So I don't generally need to get up very early.

But Thursday morning I got up early. There was an intense three minutes immediately after my alarm went off during which I struggled to come to terms with this idea, but I always knew I would make the effort. There was never a serious doubt in my mind.

I dressed warmly. Two tops, two jumpers, my predictably black but silver-lined trench coat. A pair of jeans, and the thickest pair of tights I possessed underneath those jeans. Then thick socks, my big black and scuffed boots, and a ski-hat. I even blow-dried my hair so that it wouldn't be damp all day and give me a cold.

I wore my ski-hat despite one of the jumpers having a hood attached, and made sure I remembered my umbrella. I swiped cheese sandwiches from the kitchen, along with a few handfuls of sultanas, an apple, and what I was to discover was a slightly pre-squished tangerine. I filled my water bottle up from the tap.

Got in the car. Realised I'd forgotten my scarf. Decided it didn't matter. Got dropped off at the station.

I ended up having to wait 40 minutes for a train, as I couldn't get a student travelcard for the first train to arrive after I got there. I was still glad I had got in the car, though, as it was raining quite unpleasantly, and this way I was spared the long walk which would have meant I would have had to have left the house at roughly the same time I had done in any case. I bought myself a copy of the Guardian, and sat and read for 40 minutes.

Penance, I suppose, in my mind, for skipping a day of lectures. I'm used to reading the paper online, and if I learnt nothing else today, then I learnt how to read a paper without elbowing the person sitting next to me in the face each time I wished to turn a page.

I got on the train. It was still raining, so I didn't bother walking down the platform to get a seat in an empty carriage, although I suspect the person sitting next to me may have wished he had done so by the time we got to Waterloo. (It did take me a couple of goes before I fully perfected the page turning.)

Waterloo was when it began to hit me. The excitement spread gently from my belly, tickling through my chest up to my face. My face, where I didn't seem to be able to stop the corners of my mouth from curving upwards with a life of their own, spreading a goofy grin across my features, which I fear may decide to take up residence until about March, or my birthday. I probably looked (and still look, to a certain extent) like I should be on medication. Or possibly that I already am on medication, and took too heavy a dosage this particular morning.

I don't care. I'm taking joy in something that means a great deal to me. How wrong can this possibly be?

I waited for a couple of minutes at Waterloo to see if any of my friends would txt me back to tell me where they were. Actually, I ended up slightly distracted outside WHSmiths watching the trailer for the dvd-that-must-not-be-named. The dvd that I want above all material things this Christmas, and which I have resisted buying over 23 times so far.

There was also a SouthWestTrains desk set up informing me when specific managers would be available on the station for questions and comments. I spared a thought to wonder if this was in any way connected with the furore created by Manic of Bloggerheads before giving up on my friends and making my way down onto the tube.

At Embankment the disbelief hit me. At Charing Cross I felt the tremors of physical anxiety as I began to get nervous.

I got off at Leicester Square.

Posted by Missiedith at December 12, 2003 6:11 PM