Back to work: (aka the Children of Armageddon*)
The trains weren't running so had to get the 171 which wasn't bad apart from the 2 posh girls (plum coloured coats, big rock engagement rings, loud mobile conversations with boy friends about being on the bus) who pushed in and nabbed seats off all us who were standing on the top deck .
Oh and the A-hole driver who over took our bus at the lights and skidded and hit us and then proceeded to berate the driver to compensate for his lack of genitals or higher brain function. His favourite line was "shat ap your a public servant, shat ap your a public servant" He got a hearty jeer when he finally "shat ap" and pushed his car out of the way off to spend the rest of the day blaming the world for him being an un-evolved numbnuts and Chelsea fan.
On the news we had lots of wingeing about the buses never stopping in the Blitz. Well things were more pressing then weren't they, if people didn't get to work convoys got sunk. Even with how shaky things are now a days lost work isn't going to end up with John Mills & Donald Sinden clinging to a life raft while day dreaming about meeting saucy WAAF's on crowded troop trains.
People stayed off and had a longer weekend including priggish types who write to the Telegraph.
* sorry this was the title of the book the guy on the bus opposite me was reading it sounded a bit over the top.
Good things about the snow: playing out, the quiet, an excuse to buy ginger wine, getting stuff done at home, watching the first episodes of The Wire.