Discombobulation

I venture out of the peace and tranquility of my room to explore London on mid-break.

Excited by my new op-shop attire, yet disheartened by my mammoth "To Do" list,

I try to stay optimistic.

As the tube nears the city, the crowd herd through the doors.

Oh, I say, it's holidays.

I disembark at Oxford Street and brace myself for what I may see.

Not too bad, busy, yet manageable.

I head toward the Crumpler store to buy Murphy the Mac a little present,

and find that I am constantly stopping.

Not at boutique shops or appetising cafe's,

but because of people who simply don't know where they are going.

They stand in the middle of the path and get cross with the bustle of people around them.

No doubt, it is the crowd that are doing something wrong.

After buying my purchase, it's time to get back on the people mover under the city.

Instantaneously, I am aggravated and telling myself to breathe... to be patient.

People are swarming around me and simply shove you aside.

That's cool, I think, I will simply shove you back.

If that's not enough, dogs are pottering around with their owners,

intrigued and perplexed by their new surroundings.

Children on scooters are flying past and bumping along the walls.

Parents amble behind, oblivious to the chaos their little "darlings" are causing -

what are they thinking?

Suitcases line the path as weary travellers are done with carting them around.

Those that still have the stamina are found clogging up the one staircase that is open for holiday travel - ignoring the cringing and the groans of the locals.

I shove my pod in to calm the nerves as I clamber onto the next train.

I close my eyes and try to nod off, the only way to get through the next 12 stops to home.

Finally, at my snug little room,

I get myself a large glass of wine. Surely it is happy hour somewhere in the world,

and after all, I deserve it... don't I?

Tomorrow, I may just stay at home.