welcome to my morning mind

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Tediosity. Is that a word? It should be a word. It might be a word. But what does it mean? Does it have the same meaning, or a derivative meaning, of the word tedious? Or am I just insanely rambling about nothing. I am being tedious, mayhaps. The free weefee on the bus is being ridiculously slow, almost as if it hasn’t yet woken up. A bit like me, I suppose. The curly-haired woman in the seat in front of me is trying to connect on her phone. I can see the screen in the reflection in the window. I am merrily typing this on Word, although Word has just informed me that in a few more tries I will be unable to use Word without signing in to an account. I have an account through work, but I don’t know the password. I should quite probably rectify that. Oh, she’s connected! But she’s looking at her Daily Fail Mail app, which both disappoints and humours me in equal measure. My local newspaper disappointed me yesterday. Here’s a tale of a man who wants pedestrians to not be third in the priority stakes, behind automotive vehicles and cyclists! screamed the front page headline. Ooh, I likey this man! thought I. It transpired to be a non-story in a paper of non-stories. Nothing is going on in the Land of Flat, except angry men demanding to be heard. It also transpires that my Perfectly Porcelain Polish friend knows this man, but as she {and I mean this quite literally} knows everybody, this comes as no real surprise. The bus is soon to be packed, squishing us in like sardines in a tin can. Time to go.