THINGS I’D RATHER BE DOING THAN PAYING FOR THE DAMN TUBE
Sitting on the tube has to be one of the most stressful parts of my day. Will I get on this one? Will I get my new bag trapped in the door? Will it even leave the station? Here is what I'd rather be paying to do.
I spend £23 per week just getting from Marble Arch to Liverpool St. Station every morning there and back, that’s almost £100 a month and £1200 a year. It’s the same price as the bus that takes me the 51 miles from Oxford to London and I’m only on the tube for 14 minutes each way!
So whilst I was burning money on the dingy, sweat filled seat of the Central Line, I got to thinking of all the other things I could spend my £100 a month on and in just 14 short minutes I thought of these:
Eyes brows waxed and tinted every week (I think it’s an excessive amount to get your eyebrows done this often unless you’re Vivian Westwood but I’d like the option)
Monthly spa day and back massage.
Membership to a fancy, “no kids allowed” gym with all the trimmings, yup even the steam room is included. I’d probably go twice, once for the novelty and the second time for a swim then feel self-conscious about my bikini line and never return.
Get my bikini line, underarms and top lip waxed. Still not return to the gym though.
Two straps of a Michael Kors backpack in lilac and in another two months I could get the rest of it!
That Mac lipstick in ‘Heroine’ because I can’t justify £15 just to end up looking like a twat, I’m already paying £23 to smell someone else’s armpit.
Rent a movie on iTunes every night.
Get Wasabi for breakfast, lunch and dinner because it’s Wasabi and it’s delicious!
Two boxes of 12 doughnuts from Krispy Kreme and then cry when I eat them all.
Or save all the money for a year and blow it on a sextastic weekend away in Paris.
Well, after writing that all down. I’m quitting my job
… But I’ll probably just continue to bitch to myself every Monday morning sitting on the same stained tube seat, inches aways from someone’s crotch pretending they’re penis/vagina doesn’t exist.
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