A testing tube

I very nearly lost my cool in a day job where swearing might cost you a job and all because I am becoming more and more incensed by the state of the tube in London. Not only does my oyster card soak up every little last bit of my "extra" cash but it is mostly useless, as strikes continue and mayhem prevails.  Some birdies have ushered that tubes won't be running normally until after the olympics, which begs the simple but last resort question of why??!! Are they too busy buying their tickets online? Have they made enough money to last a year from mugs, who, like me, are unwillingly assigned to the rat-race and are therefore obliged to keep topping up their untoppable wages? It's ok, there are days of respite such as tuesdays, when despite delays, my head is locked in pure gossip bliss, courtesy of Grazia. Other days are not as joyous and I often find myself wedged between a polish builder and someone poking mascara wands into their eyes. A rare addition to this fracas is the prospect of snow this week, which will undoubtedly fall in miniscule quantities, just enough to have underground staff packing for their christmas hols and me left rubbing up against yet another Pole in a white van, as we cross "hazardous" London instead of grinding to a pathetic halt. At least it's Tuesday.