A troublesome travel

I set off this morning, rushing to get my bus (left the house a little too late because I forgot to wash a dish and put out my trash and make some tea and so on), which I made just in time (and a Stagecoach too - that's 40 pence saved!). Stressing throughout the journey, I made it to the station with a nice margin, only to discover my train was in fact delayed, leaving me enough time to pick up some food before boarding (and reading the paper too). The train finally set off for London 15 minutes later than planned, which raised my bloodpressure slightly, but I decided not to stress about it. After all, there was nothing I could do. As field after field passed, barely distinguishable under the thick white coat of snow, the minutes ticked by. Soon we were running on a delay of 30 minutes and we weren't even half way yet. The stress build up, but I ignored it, instead losing myself in sudokus and food. When I realised there was no way I would be able to make my train, a weight fell off my shoulders. No need to run to maybe get that train, I would be late anyway. Still, I got my things together and set off for the corridor at least ten minutes before the train actually stopped and rushed out of the station as soon as the doors opened. Down Euston Road, panting, my bag banging against my leg, my feet hurting as always. When I didn't see a queue snaking out of the St Pancras, relief set into my heart. There was no line, no waiting people, and the first steward I saw came to my rescue immediately by assuring me there was no problem whatsoever to get on the next train. Get a new ticket (five minute wait), check-in (three minute process), get laptop out, log on to the free wifi. See a trolley with free sandwiches. Get a turkey one. See another trolley, with rolls. Get a chocolate one. Enjoy the warmth, the internet, the food, being where I should be.
I'll be on my way in twenty minutes (if the train is not delayed)*, on my way home, cutting short a day which looked disastrous from the start. I might be delayed in Belgium, the Eurostar might take hours to get home, but at least I am on my way. I cannot wait to get home, speak Dutch, see my family, eat homemade food which isn't bangers and mash, play in the snow, have a nice shower, celebrate Christmas, give presents. Almost there!

*I just heard the train is delayed. Predictable, but I am not too bothered. Life is good.