Goob-tube, commuter's gripe

I commute four hours a day. Yes ... four damned hours each day. It's a nightmare of a journey. Most of the time I'm carrying a laptop bag which weighs a tonne. It's a walk, three trains and a bus to my destination and takes about 2 hours door to door both ways.

Mostly the Underground runs fairly smoothly (with the exception of last night where it took me one hour to travel a distance it normally takes me 30 minutes to travel ... apparently the tube can't handle extreme weather conditions and it bucketed down yesterday). But on one part of my journey you can guarantee that people will be packed in like sardines. And, given my height, on a hot stinking day it's not the best thing - guys either think that because London weather isn't that sticky that they don't need deodorant ... think again stinkers!

Anyway, back to original story, which really is only one small gripe, but it adds to the frustration that I feel each day on my daily commute. Remember, laptop bag that weighs a tonne. Add that to, already commuting for 1.5 hours on this particular journey home, wearing high heels, a pants suit with the jacket on on a warm day, a jammed packed train that is delayed AND smelly commuters. I manage to get a seat this day, but next to me sits a guy who is rolling, no, I mean, literally rolling drunk. The train rolls ... he rolls ... ONTO ME! And he wreaks of sweat and alcohol, so much so that I feel sick to my stomach. To top that all off sitting opposite me is this dowdy looking woman enthralled in her novel PICKING HER NOSE AND EATING IT!

You know, there are some days when I get home from a total of four hours of commuting and 8 hours of work and just want to cry ... this was one of them.