I had to go to London for university yesterday.
I got the train up by myself, a massive thing, made my way through the underground to the Science Museum by myself and didn’t panic until I got to the café and realised I had an hour in which I would be in one place (sitting duck vs. moving target) and by myself (zebra theory). I didn’t have a proper panic attack, I sat and drank lemonade and tried to do mindful breathing. It’s very hard to be mindful when you have voices shouting at you to stay alert and screaming kids running round the place. It’s hard to be mindful in public. Hard to be calm anyway.
Eleven fifteen rolled around – meeting time. Zebra theory kicks in (that is, it’s harder to pick out a target from a moving herd), and I feel a bit safer. There is the added benefit of being inside, and behind locked doors with access limited to employees. Did I say what I’m doing at university? I’m studying for an MA art history and museum curating (part time, one seminar a week), hence frequent trips to museums. Maybe I said already, I forget things a lot. It means we get to go backstage and see how things work. And backstage is harder (although not impossible) for them to get through to.
I was desperate to get home by the end. So desperate I almost walked straight into a ‘policeman’. But I got home, safe and well and unscathed. Whilst it wasn’t entirely untracked, at least they didn’t hurt me. I survived.
Today is my one day of work. I have less concentration now than I have had, so here I am writing a blog post instead of thinking of zero budget campaign ideas. Just because my head. won’t. work.
And why do my hands smell of cigarette smoke? Are they manipulating my thoughts again?