Blood, Sweat and Snot

This morning I put on my new pair of flats as a trial run for my walk to and from the station. My footwear of choice is currently my metallic haviana thongs, but I'm thinking ahead for winter and protecting my tootsies from the elements. Flats are normally not worn often as I am 5ft 1 and the illusion of my deceptive height in high heels is popped like a balloon at a kids party over shrieks of "Oooooh your so little!!" "You are like a little ewok" and "I had no idea you were so...."
and it goes on. When I reached the station to check out the stinging sensation on my heel, there was a trail of blood on my ankle which had stained the inside of my new shoe. Not really an attractive look. Then my frustration as a commuter took hold. None of the travelling time signs were working aside from the number 1 being shown, and the garbled darth vader voice on the speaker was making no sense. So I took a gamble and jumped on the next overstuffed train and scrambled for a pole to cling on to. I was thinking that if you were blind or deaf, you would really be stuffed if you were dependent on transport. It really does lend itself to a sixth sense or general gamble. Intimacy with fellow commuters then reached a new level when the gentleman standing next to me kept grazing my arm with his. Most of my friends know that I have an issue with personal space at the best of times. This has been challenged in the past few weeks as I keep bumping into that old school friend who catches the same train and is a close talker. When he sits opposite me he tends to spread his legs apart and lunge forward a lot which I also find quite confronting. But this mornings arm grazing man then decided to sneeze on my arm. Yes that's right. I had someone elses nasal excrement on my arm. He apologised meekly and got out a tissue dabbing my arm and I just froze with pure revolt. I had to wait till I got to work to wash my arm. Truly vile.
I have a new program that I've added to my viewing habits. After initially scoffing at "Bondi Resue" on the ads and wondering how anyone would want to watch a show about blown up dinghis, people being dragged out of the surf etc....my house mate and I yielded to the showcase it was of these fine athletic life guards at a peak level of fitness...in speedos. Delectable! It made me want to go to Bondi and start flailing hopelessly in the water (which wouldn't be hard as I don't do swimming) or start rubbing myself with a blue ringed octopus and wait for rescue.
My workload is seriously out of control right now. So whilst I am in denial mode which consists of me looking at my to do list, putting things in manilla folders as a mental way of fixing it - i.e. removing it from my sight, I thought I would tend to my blog before I burst into tears and jump of the Westgate Bridge. I know mr vandermeer will be happy about that. Ohhhhh it's a long weekend and it's not far away!