I Should Have Stayed Home

It’s a crummy day. Have you ever woken up and thought "gee, I should stay home today"? I had that feeling this morning. I actually did feel kind of "off" and thought that today would be a good day to pull a sickie. Boss is away, no pressing work to do... But I decided that I should save my sick days for a time when I'm actually sick.

I should have stayed home.

I slept in a little, which if I hurry is no problem. But them my cat was looking so cute and sad that I was leaving him alone AGAIN I just had to play with him a little. When I finally got out of bed and started getting ready for work I had a little wardrobe malfunction. The outfit I set aside to wear today looked like complete junk when I put it on. In spite of my attempt at weight loss I looked like a Holstein squeezed into a unitard. I could barley get my pants zipped up, and when I finally did I had a rather noticeable “overhang”.

Then the zipper broke.

Hummm so much for eating like a rabbit for 2 weeks. So after 3 outfit changes I realized I had 10 minutes to do my hair and make-up. At this point I was slightly ticked off at Mike (the cat) for insisting that I play with him. It was all his fault. I whipped some gel through my hair followed by a quick blow-dry and voila! A Holstein wearing a unitard with a rat’s nest for hair.

I raced out of my apartment 5 minutes late (but if I drive fast I can still make my train). I pushed the elevator button and waited…..and waited….then realized that I forgot to put on my watch and earrings. Seeing as the elevator was set on “snails pace” this morning, I thought I could race back in my apartment and grab what I needed and be back at the elevator before it stopped on my floor.

No such luck. I arrived back at the elevator just as the doors were closing. I swear I heard some kids snickering on the other side of the doors. Damn kids.

So I catch the next elevator, now 7 minutes late. On the 8^th floor some old lady shuffles into the elevator. GOD HURRY UP!! It makes 2 more stops and more old ladies get on. They take FOREVER to get off on the Ground floor, and by the time I’m in my car I'm 10 minutes late. Ok, so I just need to drive extra fast.

I zoom down Jane Street, thankful no cops are out because I would get one whopper of a ticket. I managed to swerve around two large trucks, one street cleaner, and my nemesis, the beige Concord that likes to piss me off by going 40 km/h in a 60 zone, who I inevitably get stuck behind. Woo hoo!!! I picked up some time speeding down Jane street. Maybe this day will be ok after all!

I pull into the GO station lot just in time. But what’s this? No parking spots?? I’m forced to park in the "pay" section, and fish out the $4.25 I need for the meter. I’m second in line at the meter, anxiously waiting my turn with the other men and women who don’t seem to understand the concept of leaving oneself ample travel time. I have about 1 minute before the train comes, and the lady in front of me is fumbling around at the meter making the 7 people behind her rather annoyed. She can’t seem to figure out how to work the machine. She’s also oblivious to the many groans and sighs coming from behind her. She finally finishes and I hear the train whistle in the distance. I throw my money into the meter, grab my ticket, shove it onto my dashboard and make the “run of shame” to the train. Every other morning (when I arrive at the GO lot early) I silently laugh at the poor fools making this run from the parking lot to the train platform. Oh, how the tables have turned.

While sitting on the train (trying to catch my breath), I realize that I only put $4.25 into the meter for my parking pass. The daily cost is $4.50. Shoot. So now I'm going to get a parking ticket. At least I made the train.

I finally caught my breath and settled into a nice doze. I never sleep on the train, but this morning’s adventure tuckered me out. I was sitting across from a rather large man with food spilled down the front of his shirt who also had a slight body odor issue. The woman beside me continually glanced at the man, then at me, and let out an extremely loud and rude sigh of disgust. Ok, so I don’t look my best, but is that any reason to sigh at me? Leave tubby and I alone! He probably was rushing for the train too and didn’t have time to change his shirt. Oh how my attitude has changed now that I had to make the run of shame.

My walk to work was uneventful, thankfully. I was starting to think that things were looking up for the day. I stepped onto the escalator to take me up to the main floor of my building, when things went terribly wrong. I was moving backwards. The escalator I stepped onto was going down, when I needed to go up. In a brief moment of confusion, caffeine withdrawal and embarrassment, I thought “gee, I wonder if I can still climb up the “down” escalator?” I took a step, and stumbled as the moving stairs flung me backwards. I quickly did a “who saw me” check and managed to rectify the embarrassing situation with minimal collateral damage. Only 2 people were in the vicinity and both looked like they also suffered from the Morning Haze (the effect of minimal sleep, no coffee, self-obsessed thoughts and steadfast routine). I made it out fairly unscathed.

My wounded ego and I speed walked up the escalator (using the “up” side) and into an empty elevator, pressing the “close door” button like a maniac. Phew. Phase one of my “trip to work” complete. It can only get better from here, right?

Wrong. It got worse…..