Its very strange. I'm the same, I wear the same clothes, I take the same route to work. But everything else is different, everyone else is on holiday, towing enormous suitcases, wearing garish t-shirts, and having absolutely no sense of urgency whatsoever.
My summer of late shifts means that I travel to work in the middle of the day, and it's making me feel like I've landed on a different planet. Normally, when I tut and shuffle, trying to get to the front of the queue for the train door, I'm surrounded by other people dressed in dark clothes, tutting and shuffling along with me. And it works fine. We're like a moody river, all moving in the same direction, all in a bit of a rush because of some signal failure or other, all moving smartly away from the train upon exit and striking out with purpose towards our chosen tube line. And absolutely never, and I mean never ever, stepping down from the train, stopping dead still, and looking around in amazement at the sheer excitement of being on Paddington station, suitcase blocking what's left of the doorway, with no awareness whatsoever of the commuter standing behind you, fit to burst with frustration and almost falling over your stupid suitcase.
There were actually a million people on Paddington station today. Where they hell were they all going? And why did they feel it necessary to sit all over the floor, so that I couldn't find a way through the milling, disoriented, bag-dragging, stopping-suddenly-for-no-reason-whatsoever-and-then-staring-around-in-wonder crowd to get to the underground entrance.
I think I need a holiday. And when I do have one, I will be sensible and get into my car. Like normal people do.