Both escalators were going up and the handful of us leaving SJW had to walk down all the stairs.
I went to another agency interview today, all way over on the Strand.
Test results: I still type at 58 words per minute with a 1% error rate, and I'm ace on PowerPoint (95th percentile company-wide) - and I haven't even used it in a few years.
Let's see what they come up with for me.
Afterwards, I walked up through Trafalgar Square past the National Gallery. I was so tempted to go in and see the "Bellini in Asia" exhibition, but with my portfolio and boot heels I wasn't comfortable enough.
I dawdled up to Piccadilly, planning to take the Tube at Green Park, and discovered an interesting stall at the Trocadero where I had a surprise created for someone who shall remain unnamed.
When I got to Fortnum & Mason, I just had to go in for some Orange Pekoe Ceylon tea, which is the best ever. And then it was off back home for this girl. Had I worn flatter shoes, I would have walked all the way to Bond Street.
It is 9.30 pm and I am STILL in a T-shirt and feeling great. I think summer is here!
Know what irritates me? Doctors, faced with a patient exhibiting rare symptoms, who exclaim: But this condition only happens once in every 300,000 people!
Yea, well there are a lot of people in the world. This could be one of the ones.
In the Tube the other day, I stepped into the carriage and noticed an adjoining door swinging open. Me - juggling my bags - pushed it to and engaged the handle - no catch. I leaned against it and pushed - still no catch. I gave up before we started moving, and sat next to a guy on a PS2. The young lady beside him sitting closest to the door got up and managed to close it. I looked up and gave her a grin.
She sat down as we pulled away from the platform, leaned over and said, "I ate my spinach for breakfast!" I guffawed and replied, "And I obviously didn't!"