Coursework

My work has sent me to London for training on how to use our database. I love coming into London on the train. It is such a feeling of purpose, even if the training is completely useless (which it is). We rolled into Paddington station with only minor delays for a signal problem. I lifted the door latch when the train came to a stop by leaning through the open window and using the outside handle. That's how it is done. It is not how it would be done in Canada. One, it would be too cold and you'd get someone who had just sneezed in their hand with it stuck to the door handle; or two, someone would do something stupid and fall out; or three, someone would be unable to comprehend not being able to only open the door from the outside and miss their stop. All would probably result in litigation and wholesale changes to the rail network...

But with hardly any trains, what Canada would do is irrelevant. At Paddington station, the morning sun shone through the windowed roof high above. The diesel exhaust hung in the air from the dozens of trains. It was mostly a business crowd, and most of them were in some variation of a pinstripe suit. Mostly blue, but a number of black. Some could have gone either way. Maybe blue and covered in deisel fumes? Many women were in pinstripe suits too, only without the typically bright ties that so many of the men have over here. Hundreds of people in pinstripe uniform marched off deliberately in every direction. I marched off with a number of them and took the stairs down into the guts of the London Underground to catch my tube on the Bakerloo line.

Training is dull. Dull enough that I am able to be trained and write a blog at the same time. I am sure the lady next to me is unimpressed. The problem is that I've taught myself everything we have gone over in training simply by using the program over the past few month. So unmotivating. I've read all the post-season Flames analysis, followed the acrimony of the Chelsea-Livrepool game last night, read about Britain in Iraq, read about Canada's hockey team captain Doan being berated by Quebec politicians (do we really have so little actual news in Canada that the BQ has nothing else to discuss?) and checked Facebook about a million times. Everyone back home is asleep, so not once has anything new happened on Facebook. Except Adrienne. She was clearly up late on Facebook last night!

So I sit. Looking at the clock and looking forward to my Canadian friends waking up and getting on Facebook. And, of course, wishing I could just go home and see Anna. I've only been in London a half dozen (weekday) times since starting work. Not once have I had a truly problem free trip. Last night was going smoothly until the Reading-bound train found itself without a driver. I truly believe that it could be a 60 minute trip in a 'perfect' world. I'd be happy with a 75 minute trip home to see Anna tonight... or maybe I should just get a head start and duck out of "training" early?