My train is cancelled and the next train is one of those new ones. I like to read for half the journey into work and sleep the other half. But these new trains make sleep impossible.
I can sleep through the woman's voice which has to say "the next stop is..." every three minutes.
I can sleep through the usual gum chewers, the snot sniffers, the really important phone callers.
But I can't get any sleep on these new seats.
As soon as I begin to drift off, I get thrown forward into the brace position. My ageing spine tells the working part of my brain that it would be more comfortable at 30 degrees than bolt upright against a surface that only a Pilates black belt or former 400 metre runner Michael Johnson could tolerate.
"Just checking for dust, sir?"