The crescendo to my generally unpleasant day…
James is on a golf trip this weekend. I dropped him at a friend’s place in Logan early this morning and then got caught in traffic going back into the city. I decided that rather than go past work to get home, park, walk the 15 minutes to the train, spend another 20 on the train, then 10 walking to office, I’d just park in the city this one time as a treat. I have literally never before driven to work in the CBD. It costs a fortune and I hate being in the peak hour traffic.
I had a late meeting today, so I decided I’d head off early and join it from home. I left work, grabbed some groceries to feed tonight’s guests, lugged everything to the train station, sat through the whole journey, lugged everything home (hot, bothered, irritated by the inconvenience), did my meeting, worked for another hour, put a load of washing on and straightened up the tablecloth.
It was right around the time that I began to make my unmade bed, so that my guests would think I make my bed, that I realised the thing that you have all now realised; my car was in the city, and I was not.
After cursing what could be considered an excessive amount, I assessed the situation, which was as follows:
- I am not in the mood for this shit
- I have people arriving for dinner in one hour
- I have neither cooked nor prepared food in any capacity
- I currently look like the crazy cat lady from the Simpsons
- I have been early bird validated and if I don’t pick up my car today, it will cost me $160
- If I spend $160 on parking, my husband will be displeased
- It’s peak hour, and an Uber will take longer than a train and cost me money that I’m trying to save by retrieving my vehicle
- Even if I do not feed my guests, at least they will think that I make my bed
So, I made the decision to return to the station and train it back into the city to get my car. I missed the train by 30 seconds. Another train was coming on the next platform. I rushed over. I missed that one too.
When I finally got to the car park, I had a brief moment where I thought that I had forgotten my car keys. It was like a thousand knives to my gut.