Impressionism

I've spent quite a lot of the last 18 hours doing impressions of various things. Firstly, I did my impression of an Alpine Nordic Downhill Cross-Country Slalom Skier as I clumped home from New Southgate station in the snow (like last year, the buses couldn't cope with the state of the roads). It's about a mile and a half and I made it in 25 minutes, which isn't bad at the best of times. That was made possible by the fact that I'd made like superman and changed in a phone box (well, a bus shelter, actually) and put on a jumper and a pair of boots. By the time I got home I was doing an impression of a thermo-nuclear reactor. I was so hot I could feel global warming happening right around me.

I collapsed into the armchair and spent the evening being an old, arthritic man. Every time I had to get up I groaned as my joints and muscles protested loudly. I was very grateful this morning that the one impression I didn't really do with much success was that of the insomniac. I tried, waking up a couple of times during the night but in between I slept soundly. Like a babe, you could say.

It continued this morning as I became a sardine on first a WAGN train and then the northern line before finally getting to work two hours after leaving home (twice as long as usual). Hopefully that's the end of it now. I don't want to do impressions any more. I'm looking forward to just being me again.