Monday, February 4, 2008

Suffering Addicts

You can pick them out quite clearly in the bus queues and on the trains this morning as these functioning addicts trudge to work in the biting cold. It seems as though their collective consciousness has somehow been pervaded by the desert heat, deepening the effects of the freezing North wind as it sweeps in over the Firth of Forth. Their eyes and limbs are heavy as they slog through the crowds to their trains and buses, or sit sedated in the queuing traffic. They are outsiders, who view their own odd, antisocial obsession as a badge of pride even as it takes its inevitable toll on their personal and social lives. 'I remember that from the 80's' is the standard office putdown, a sign of feigned interest and thinly veiled pity for those still stricken by yesterday's phenomena. This morning they seem especially detached as they consider the events of last night. They long to share their bewilderment of their situation, to talk it through with others, but without a way of expressing their feelings and opinions they can't properly crystallise their thoughts and emotions for an external audience. Why? How? And the lack of sleep is not helping. The working day is glaring at them from the near distance, threatening the slumbering drones and they drag themselves through their commute. They'll leave on the dot tonight, as afternoon meetings have been deliberately curtailed or called off. There will be no working late today. The buzz has worn off and the consequences of their addiction have settled on them. The morning after the Superbowl is a bittersweet moment for American football fans from Edinburgh. I’m knackered.