So, the blog is becoming a diary it seems as today is a recap of my day.
I woke up wonderful, finally rested after a week of constant work in a restaurant where I found a job as a waitress for a minimal wage so that I could stay in London.
Today I had a interview for a better paid job and was really looking forward to it. I mean really looking forward to it.
I woke up, my friends who took me in already off on their University’s and I stayed with a lovely cat, Mimi. Shower, meditation, laundry and food with a bit of book reading passed my time until 3 o’clock when I had to leave to get to the interview at 4 o’clock.
So, here is a thing, when you go to such interview you have to have a proof of living somewhere. Mine was a gas bill. Now, I would love to say that the cat slept on it or something and I didn’t see it but the simple fact is that I forgot it as I was leaving.
I was walking down the street from my house, happy that I won’t be late when I was hit with the thought ‘the gas bill!’
I think I kinda creeped out the guy that walked behind me when I suddenly stopped, grabbed my head and started muttering “fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking fuck”
Now, you would probably say, no worries, just go back and take it, you’ll be late ten minutes, but oh well. Ha! As if.
See, I am a guest in the flat not a flatmate which in translation means that I have no key to get back in. Some would pose a question ‘how the heck do you lock the door when you leave?’
The doors have some kind of very secure lock that automatically locks behind you. You need a key to get in, nothing else gets past them.
I believe it was the universe itself that made me shut the window that day, but not actually pulling the handle in place and locking it.
Here’s a thing. The apartment is in the building on the first floor. Right in front of that window is the roof of the ground apartment and thus an access to crazy ass people like me. Problem is, it is still too tall to just climb the bare wall and I would need a ladder, but I admit, sometimes I am just plain crazy in my decisions and plans that others would simply deem foolish. Plus, absolutely everybody knows that I am as clumsy as they come and I have no idea how everybody survived around me as I carry a tray with food and drinks about (FIY, I only had two accidents in this week and a half that I work which I think is contratibuted to my lucky star in the sky).
Keep in my mind that I left the cat in the flat (she ain’t really our cat, she just moved in so we have to let her out when we leave so she doesn’t piss somewhere) as I expected my friends to be back by 5pm and she slept so peacefully I didn’t have a heart to push her out. Big mistake as I read the text on my phone when I left that they won’t be back until after 9pm. So, I needed to get the gas bill and get the cat out.
I still don’t know how I managed it. My mind just started supplying me with half okay ideas on how to get in and I didn’t think much about it before I did them.
I just know that I grabbed a trash box by the entrance and pushed it against the wall. Heaven knows how I didn’t freak out the neighbors with the noise enough to get them to check what the hell is dragging a trash can about. I was kinda hoping someone would get out so I could ask for a ladder. Nobody came,unfortunately (or fortunately?).
The trash can didn’t work. My head just reached the top of the roof which is flat and had nothing to grab on.
But, there is a small wall by the ground flat which is supposed to part away the road and parking of the building from the supposed garden which only has grass and a tree in it. The wall isn’t wide in length, to be clear. However, everything was welcome in that moment.
So, I climbed the wall, pulled the trash can on it and tried to balance it somehow. Let me tell you, it certainly wasn’t balanced enough that anyone would tell you ‘come, hop on, it is as safe as it can be’ it was secure enough at best and I was somehow on it in seconds. I somehow managed to push my bag on the roof and was looking how to pull myself up as well. Twice the trash box almost went off from my feet. I somehow grabbed and pulled myself up and I still wonder how the heck haven’t I broke my neck. Off I went to the window, opened it and jumped in like some kind of ninja. I didn’t freak out the neighbour’s, but I certainly did freak out the cat. She looked at me with eyes clearly saying “What is wrong with you?” I wonder, as well.
Kick the cat out – check (it was very gentle in practice). Grab the bill – checked.
Get to the interview – fail of outmost failures.
Off I went, puffing and thinking fanatically on how to get.
Anyone who lives in London knows how bloody big it is and how you need to leave at least an hour time to get somewhere on time. I had 20 minutes. Citymapper, a wonderful, lovely app that I love fully and unconditionally only had one option on how to get to place in 20 min. Call a cab. Call an Uber cab for which you need an app on your phone because the London is so advanced that calling the cab the usual way – by phone – is so out of fashion.
Anyone that knows me even a little bit will know that I never have memory on my phone because it is crowded by photos and editing apps. I think I deleted about a dozen apps that I need to get back online in my attempt to download the app for the taxi. Only, my darling phone is a bit of a grandpa lately and didn’t get the notification that there is space being created for Uber taxi app. Only thing he had to say to me after deleting dozen of apps is sorry, storage space too full. Reseting didn’t jog his calculation back on track either.
When technology doesn’t work, you turn towards something else – kindness of people. I hate to do that to be honest.
So I stopped about five people with a question can they call me a cab until finally a lady I stopped had an app for it. It wasn’t Uber, it was a Cabbie, but I wasn’t picky. It was so wonderful that somebody actually wished to waste 10 minutes to call a cab for a stranger. The lady said it will be in 11 minutes and will cost me 15 pounds. I was willing to give 30 pounds at that moment to be there on time.
I waited for 18 minutes, looking about, flinching at every horn that sounded until I gave up and run for the Kentish Town station to get on the tube. The main reason I didn’t want to go on tube was because of being late, now it was my only option which I knew. I managed to get there in 25 minutes from one part of town to the other. Only, I was late 40 minutes and wasn’t let in. Only thing I got was that to call them for the reschedulment of the interview. I doubt they’ll let me come back, but here’s what I learned – the Old Street part of town is lovely and I like it a lot, I need to start writing things that I need down before leaving the house, start way earlier when going somewhere and Starbucks is a savior. I dragged myself about, ready to head to the university to get the keys from my friends so I could get in the flat cuz I shut the window and wasn’t ready ro repeat it that soon when the Starbucks showed it’s presence on the corner of the street. Chai tea latte and carrot cake actually do help calm your mood.
I don’t recommend climbing the roofs for anybody. It makes you sweaty and certainly isn’t fun if you fall. I do recommend Starbucks though it is an expansive mother chucker.
Hope your day was a bit more calmer and restful then mine
Until next time…