I’ve lived in Edinburgh a few months now, and I’ve discovered a few things about myself, and the world.
I like lists, and so in no particular order:
The only thing I hate more than slow-walkers are slow-walkers who stop short. On a hill. In front of me. Sometimes I can’t avoid nipping people’s heels, and I’ve developed a points system for when this happens. 50 points if they act like they don’t notice, 100 points if they say ‘ouch’, or something that isn’t ouch. I don’t mean to run into people, and don’t make a habit of it. But if people stop short in front of me, and chair-to-heal contact is made, I may as well make it fun. For me.
Even if I carry a notebook wherever I go, that doesn’t necessarily mean that any of the five pens at the bottom of my bag will actually work.
I cannot write in clutter. Contrary to what I used to think, chaos is not now, nor has it ever been, organised. I’m looking forward to getting the second bedroom sorted out into ‘the office’, so I can move the laptop in there and we can use our kitchen table as it was meant to be used. Hopefully, I’ll be writing in ‘the office’ before NaNoWriMo in November.
In Edinburgh, the words ‘accessible entrance’ could mean ‘the door with the least number of steps in front of it.’ Let’s say three or four, which is less than the seven at the other (inaccessible) entrance. A step is a step, and very rarely are there zero of them.
I love that all the buses here are low-floor, though. Never have I been so happy to hear a siren (when the ramp extends)! I have decided that I shouldn’t be put in charge of the buzzer that tells the driver I need the ramp to get off the bus. I’ve been known to get too happy with that thing. I once hit it with my elbow in sheer excitement. Sorry driver, this isn’t my stop. I just hit the button because it’s there, and I can! Again! I’m sure I’ll get over it soon. Maybe.
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