I am a creature of habit. I like ritual. I thrive with routine. I'm not totally comfortable until I have a routine down.
In the mornings there used to be a lot of time wasting. Drying hair, teeth brushing, full make up, looking for an appropriate outfit to wear- it all took way too much time. I have managed to cut most of it out.
I dry my hair the night before (its way too long currently and thus takes far too long to dry...so much effort, all that holding of hair brushes and hair dryers, no thanks, my arms get tired), I stopped wearing make up to work (what's the point?), I still brush my teeth (its the one thing I have to do to start my day) and I pretty much wear a uniform of tights and some sort of dress with a sweater.
All that time efficiency means that I can sleep later (til like 7.06), get up, brush my teeth, run a brush through my hair (if I'm feeling fancy), get my lunch together, turn on Ellen and eat a bowl of cereal before gathering my bags (yes, bagS: my purse which is a good size, and my giant extra bag that can carry everything else I may need: extra shoes, umbrella, book(s), and my lunch) and walk out the door to the bus. Takes about 5 minutes to walk there, I get on the bus and settle in for 50 glorious minutes of reading time.
Today my bus, clearly labeled as my bus, came towards us, all lit up, a beacon of hope on a dark and rainy morning. I got on said bus. So did other people that I normally take the bus with. I arranged myself comfortably on the same seat I sit in every day and took out my new book (Her Fearful Symmetry, yay!) to enjoy the ride into work.
Except that we ended up stopping at a light. That leads down the mountain. The wrong way. The bus that was labeled as my bus, was actually another bus. That doesn't go downtown.
It goes to the Skytrain.
Now I know lots of people swear by the Skytrain. "There's nothing better" they will tell you. But they lie. Because the Skytrain is filled with way too many people, all diseased putting their hands all over the poles, pressed up against one another, sitting on tiny seats. And taking this route, means I have to give up my seat and change buses and trains twice. One bus, two trains does not a happy girl make.
Not only was I at the Skytrain, which I abhor, but I was wearing rain boots which are kind of clumsy in the best of times (I desperately need new ones). I decided to take the stairs instead of the escalator, win that small battle against inactivity. Well I probably should have concentrated on the war against public transit.
Predictably I fell up the stairs and smashed the top of my kneecap nicely on the edge of the concrete stair. You can bet that a pretty bruise is even now growing under my jeans. At least I didn't rip a hole in my jeans- I'm pretty sure that I would have called it a day and gone back home. I did rip some skin off my knuckles but at least that will grow back.
I'm also pretty sure that somehow, (in my travels? in my falls? who knows?) my ankle got messed up. The one that I always hurt. I'm sure its temporary but its adding more injury to insult (why was the bus not labeled correctly??). Normally I don't even take the bus on Fridays! The Boyfriend has Fridays off and I don't allow him to sleep in (well he tries but I slam doors and turn on lights and eventually he'll say "do you want me to drive you?"...well if you're already up...) and I get a ride to work. But he has been away all week. He comes back today but at this point all I can focus on is the dull throb and funny-bone like pain currently pulsing in my knee cap.
At least today is Slap A Co-Worker Day. I'm sure I won't have any problems finding irritants to slap. I hope you will join me. I would love to hear the stories. In actuality, it will probably only be Anna and I slapping each other so as not to get in trouble. How sad.