I'm getting too old for this...
Mar. 6th, 2006 09:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dchenesFurther proof that today is Monday...
I had an appointment with my regular doctor's office (although not my regular doctor) today. That meant I had to leave work an hour early. Leaving work an hour early made me twenty minutes late for the appointment, because I missed a bus by thirty seconds. The appointment went as well as they ever do, considering the fun stuff you get done to you if you happen to be female.
Anyway, by the time I got out of the doctor's office, it was 5:30ish. Silly me, I didn't just step directly out into traffic and trust it to stop for me in both directions, so of course I missed a bus going back the way I wanted, by about a minute. Seeing as how (a) it was going to be dinnertime by the time I got home, (b) I'd had a craving for a meatball sub since last week, and (c) the quickest way to conjure up a bus is to be doing something that makes it hard to catch one, I stepped into the pizza place next door to the bus stop and got a meatball sub, to go. As it happens, the pizza place seemed to be renting out space to a secondhand junk-and-bookseller, so I bought a book for $1.
So here's me, at about 5:45 or so, waiting for the bus, with a meatball sub and a book, thinking about going home and having dinner. That lasted until Brigham Circle, at which point I remembered it was Monday. I have trombone lessons on Mondays. My brain, in its infinite whatever-it-is, decided that my trombone lesson today was at 6:30, and that meant I got home, picked up the trombone, turned right back around and went to wait for the 66 bus. I got to what I thought was my lesson with a minute and a half to spare, and lo, it was revealed to all and sundry that my lesson wasn't until 7:00. So I sat around reading a magazine for about 40 minutes (the guy before me went over time, but since I'm the last lesson of the night for my teacher, it didn't matter much). I had my lesson, hiked back out to the bus stop and, you guessed it, missed a bus by about a minute.
20 minutes later, there's me, standing at the bus stop, wondering if the bus is going to show up before my fingers freeze, and counting seconds before I can take my boots off (I have my lessons standing up and my feet were tired anyway). When the bus does show up, it's packed. The best advice for taking a trombone on a crowded bus is, don't, but I did, and got home, and separated my meatball sub from the paper plate it was wrapped in, and inhaled it. It would've been better warm, because the guys who made it know that when you want cheese on a meatball sub, you want enough cheese to know it's there (which means enough cheese to weld itself to whatever the sub is wrapped in when it cools off). It was tasty anyway, though.
It's been a Monday. I'm ready for it to be something else now.
I had an appointment with my regular doctor's office (although not my regular doctor) today. That meant I had to leave work an hour early. Leaving work an hour early made me twenty minutes late for the appointment, because I missed a bus by thirty seconds. The appointment went as well as they ever do, considering the fun stuff you get done to you if you happen to be female.
Anyway, by the time I got out of the doctor's office, it was 5:30ish. Silly me, I didn't just step directly out into traffic and trust it to stop for me in both directions, so of course I missed a bus going back the way I wanted, by about a minute. Seeing as how (a) it was going to be dinnertime by the time I got home, (b) I'd had a craving for a meatball sub since last week, and (c) the quickest way to conjure up a bus is to be doing something that makes it hard to catch one, I stepped into the pizza place next door to the bus stop and got a meatball sub, to go. As it happens, the pizza place seemed to be renting out space to a secondhand junk-and-bookseller, so I bought a book for $1.
So here's me, at about 5:45 or so, waiting for the bus, with a meatball sub and a book, thinking about going home and having dinner. That lasted until Brigham Circle, at which point I remembered it was Monday. I have trombone lessons on Mondays. My brain, in its infinite whatever-it-is, decided that my trombone lesson today was at 6:30, and that meant I got home, picked up the trombone, turned right back around and went to wait for the 66 bus. I got to what I thought was my lesson with a minute and a half to spare, and lo, it was revealed to all and sundry that my lesson wasn't until 7:00. So I sat around reading a magazine for about 40 minutes (the guy before me went over time, but since I'm the last lesson of the night for my teacher, it didn't matter much). I had my lesson, hiked back out to the bus stop and, you guessed it, missed a bus by about a minute.
20 minutes later, there's me, standing at the bus stop, wondering if the bus is going to show up before my fingers freeze, and counting seconds before I can take my boots off (I have my lessons standing up and my feet were tired anyway). When the bus does show up, it's packed. The best advice for taking a trombone on a crowded bus is, don't, but I did, and got home, and separated my meatball sub from the paper plate it was wrapped in, and inhaled it. It would've been better warm, because the guys who made it know that when you want cheese on a meatball sub, you want enough cheese to know it's there (which means enough cheese to weld itself to whatever the sub is wrapped in when it cools off). It was tasty anyway, though.
It's been a Monday. I'm ready for it to be something else now.
