There is none so bleak as one who loses one’s oyster card.

19 08 2010

My oyster card is practically part of me. Always in my back pocket. I check its presence constantly. Last night I went to leave the building – checked for it … gone. I carry my oyster card and my work pass in the same pass case, therefore I KNOW it must be in the building somewhere. I looked everywhere, from the CEO’s office to the recycling bin. I even had to lurk like a weirdo in more than one toilet to check the cubicles I had been in that day, in case it had fallen out my pocket. Of course the cubicles I needed to check were the only ones occupied – so I just looked odd waiting around and then inspecting the floor as soon as the ladies vacated the loo. Desperate times call for desperate measures. To say I was bleak was a massive understatement, I even physically threw myself on the floor in despair and kind of wailed in front of one of my colleagues. A massively miserable face is what I sported as I stomped across Waterloo bridge, wondering whether I flushed it or ate it by mistake. Some days bad things happen, yesterday was one of those days, but reading my god-daughter her bedtime story put it all in perspective. Ironically we read about Mr Happy and  Mr Miserable (I related). It may be fiction, but it really is possible to change how you feel by being in the presence of someone happy (almost 3-year-old high on jelly and bedtime stories) and simply turning up the corners of your mouth :)




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