Good Day/Bad Day

Yesterday had a bit of both. This week has been a bit of recovery - from a week in Barcelona for me for work, (my first European event in my new role) and then a vacation for us together in Spain, (pictures of both to follow.)

After arriving back in London late on Monday night, I've spent the last few days trying to catch up on sleep and life here.

Yesterday, I was coming home from work on my normal commute:
-15 minute walk to the train
-15 minute train ride from Kingston to Wimbledon
-30 mintue Tube ride from Wimbledon to South Kensington
-15 minute walk or 5 minute bus ride from the S. Ken station to our flat
(ok, ok I know, a bit of me feeling sorry for myself =)

Being as tired as I was, I opted for the bus ride instead of the walk home. So I wait for the bus, on a line. The man in front of me is on his cell phone and slowly moves forward. I am the last person on the bus - squeezed in.

The bus starts the route, and the driver asks me to step back. Having no where to go, and faced with a sea of i-pod wearing commuters who are guarding their own inch, I answered back, "Sir, where would you like me to go?" He continues on.

Next intersection the same thing, "you NEED to move back." Me, "I have no where to go."
"Well I can't see, you need to move back."
"Where would you like me to move to."
"Well I could just open the door and let you out right here."
"Fine, let me out."

So there I was. Walking, in heels, proud and angry NYer head high. "That will show him."

As the bus speeds by me.

All fed up and frustrated by this experience, I decide to forgo the gym and go home, finish unpacking, stopping at the corner flower stand on the way.

I have gotten in the habit, about twice a month, of stopping and getting flowers for the flat. Each time, I check the bin and pick out a few stems that they deem to be old and have put in the trash. The first time I did this, we had a rose that lasted 2 weeks. It's a little quirky I admit, but it helps me justify the expense of the flowers and is fun to get something beautiful that someone else is throwing away.

This night, as I pick out 5 stems and see a rose in the bin., the flower seller notices my interest. He notes, "if you are intersted in that rose, would you like these," and gives me a dozen silver and white roses.

Going from being kicked off the bus, to walking down the street with over a dozen roses -
ahhh, what a day.