Most days, I lazily remain in bed while Sally gets up and don’t leave the house until at least 8.30. By the time I’ve got down to the tube and squeezed myself onto a train, that normally puts me in the vicinity of King’s Cross at about ten to nine… This evening Sal and I had planned to meet in town after work for a bit of late night shopping, so despite my tiredness this morning, something made me resist the urge to hit the snooze button again and instead I hauled myself into work early.
As such, I was safely ensconced at my desk when the first explosions went off. It’s been particularly grim sitting in the office listening to the sirens outside (Aldgate is just over the other side of the river from us) and hitting refresh on the news websites, as things have got steadily worse–as a “power surge” became a “blast”, then a bomb, and injuries became fatalities and now confirmed deaths. Sal’s had no patients at work so far today, so she’s gone home already. I’m not entirely sure how I’ll be getting back. Almost certainly walking, but most of the routes I can think of taking to get me the five and a half miles home are via central London.
Trust everyone’s ok out there.