Timetables and train woes

Good day Blog! It has been another uneventful few days here. But, in the last few hours, something, if not exciting than definitely important, happened: I found my timetable for next year. This means I now know when I will be dragging my lazy butt onto campus for what is most likely to be more difficult seminars and lectures than last year. At least hopefully they will be more exciting next year than last, if only because they were more to choose from; last year, it was more the case of 'Well, that one doesn't look too bad, but that one has this one book that I like. Oh and that one? No, just no.'

The only down side to my new timetable is that I have two 9:00 starts and a 10:00 start. Which means I will have to get the train at half 7 three times a week. This in itself is not that bad - I'm an early riser, so I would be awake anyway. What makes it horrible is that half 7 is the time all the commuters and posh school kids catch the train to work and boarding school.

The scene: the train station. The train still ten minutes away, the platform is already packed with loud teenagers with sports bags and half-awake men and women in suits, carrying briefcases and folders.
Enter our heroine: halfway down the stairs onto the platform, I realise that a) I will never get a seat on the train and b) that I have to squeeze through at least two dozen people before I can even stand on the platform comfortably.
The situation: jostled on the platform, squished even worse in the effort to get onto the train when it does arrive and cramped up to strangers in the gangway on the train because it is that full.
The conclusion? Major awkwardness, as I can't figure out where to look without appearing to be staring, I can't move away from the bag poking me in the back because there is another backpack right in front of me, and I can't even reach into my pocket to get my iPod because I have some real rubbish stuff on there and I am - stupidly - afraid someone will notice me listening to Glee or Britney Spears in a public place. Or even worse, humming along with it without realising!

Imagine my joy of realising I have that to look forward three times a week next year! God, why didn't I just move out? Oh yeah, because I don't know how to work a washing machine!