I've been on a jaunt in the Southlands the past week visiting family, friends and (lastly, yesterday) attending an old friend's wedding. I'd booked my trains ages back and until this morning everything went smoothly.
Then after my early taxi ride from the hotel there was a tortuously slow rail-replacement bus ride from Newbury, followed by a delayed train at Reading, and before I knew it, I'd missed my train home. Boo Hiss!
I'd spotted last night that there might be issues with getting to Kings Cross today, but by that point there was little to be done. With hindsight (and without being at the end of a wedding reception - so possibly thinking more clearly!) I should have asked the taxi company how much it would be to drive me to Reading but bolted horses and spilled milk etc.
By the time I finally reached London I was in a foul mood. Magic phone of magic had at least enabled me to look at my options, but they hadn't cheered me: Checking fares on all the remaining trains today they came back sky high, and then a scan for coaches home yielded one, tonight at 11:30pm, affordable without selling a kidney but will deposit me at the wrong end of Princes Street tomorrow morning at 8:10. Beggars can't be choosers though.
So I was reluctantly hauling myself to Victoria Coach station on the tube, storm cloud overhead, but doggedly retaining my manners... until an utter twat of a northern tourist (whom I'd politely asked to move so I could exit the train, and who'd ignored me) objected rudely to being slightly jostled by my rucksack as I passed him.
I think that I really must never ever move to London. I snapped at him. There was proper shouting and swearing. Not masses but it was loud and angry. I was loud and angry. No matter how shitty a day I'm having in Edinburgh I don't think I've ever turned loud and angry.
I think that partly shocked me into a little mental readjustment though because by the time I'd bought my coach ticket, I'd somehow 180ed my mood.
Once on another such trip, Hame and I managed to miss our flight home by moments. We managed to get a standby but on a train at the end of the day and the one we'd just missed was in the morning. I don't remember either of us saying anything, or it being a conscious choice but instead of spending the day fuming at things we couldn't change, we settled in for a happy day hanging out together. Instead of waiting at Stanstead for 8 hours, we hung out at Stanstead... for 8 hours.
So today instead of being stuck in London, I have an unexpected extra day's holiday in London. I've pottered about & seen some sights, taken some photos and now (at Derek's excellent suggestion) I'm using my "useless" first class ticket for the missed train & enjoying the amenities of Kings Cross' excellent new First Class Lounge.
I doubt very much that I could do this sort of mood change consciously but I'm glad I have the facility subconsciously. And I'm very very glad I don't have to commute on the tube.
* that phrase being "turn your frown upside down"
2 comments:
I was going to say something about "That's because you're Scottish now"... except I've witnessed far too many prides of Scottish lads on a night out getting into fisticuffs with each other for no reason at all. So that's not it.
I find I'm on the opposite extreme: my life is so set up now to be the path of least resistance that, yes, things are peaceful — I rarely have to deal with anything I don't want to — but when does that compassionate laissez-faire slide into apathy or non-engagement?
I dunno. But I would say that this ability to take ownership of our reactions and make a choice about what state we choose to be in is probably the definition of happiness as a skill.
Nicely put as always Hame - thanks for that.
I think the space I'm in does have a definite impact on my temperament, and London has always been somewhat toxic for me. I love visiting but it's always a strain. Edinburgh has a much more positive energy for me...
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