The Top Floor Flat

In case you hadn’t heard, anarchy and chaos descended upon central London today. Or, at least, that’s what the media would have us believe. Here’s the real issue of the day: I had to change my entire commute to avoid the police blockade, the closed Tube station I usually use to get home from work and thousands of protesters (many peaceful, a small handful not). When a handful of hippies decide to get up in arms about some bank bailouts, thus disrupting my carefully timed morning and evening routines, I get upset.

Because I’ve been staying up late and waking up early, my sleep patterns have already been subprime and there has been some negative amortization of useful hours in my day thanks to a serious lack of moral hazard on the part of government-sponsored entities (namely Transport for London) and the fact that I may have missed one or two trains here or there. I’ve been dealing with effectively short sales of my budgeted time and although I really know I should be taking better care of myself, I haven’t really made much of an effort. I have paid for my hectic schedule with some highly toxic derivatives (my nose has been running for a week now). I’m sure I’ll be back on my feet in no time, in fact I am fully confident I can write up a plan to get out of this predicament. All I need is a bit of a bailout – in the form of a government provided holiday. Please don’t get angry if I give myself a bit of a bonus of a few extra days off. After all, you really can’t blame me for being tired or getting sick.

So please don’t think it’s selfish to make these protests all about me. They are disrupting an already precarious situation (related to my health and commute) and sure, the protesters might have some legitimate reasons to be angry – after all, their pensions are gone and their homes are being foreclosed on but really, is all this necessary? I’m sure it’s all one big budget misunderstanding.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to stay up late tonight to edit some blog posts.