Today is not my day

Three minutes.

The online bus tracker showed three minutes until the bus reached my bus stop. If I hurried, I could still make it. Time is quickly fading and I have a great deal of work ahead of me to get my dissertation finished before I am supposed to graduate this summer. Losing a half hour to wait for another bus seemed pointless.

I grabbed some leftover chicken and a yogurt and threw them in my bag for lunch, threw on my winter boots, and ran out the door. I trudged through the snow in our front yard to save the few precious seconds it would take to walk around on our front walkway and driveway down to the sidewalk. Plus, I knew the driveway and sidewalks were probably slippery.

Lafayette got eight inches of snow two days ago, and freezing rain that night. There was no rain yesterday or the night before, but temperatures hovering just above freezing yesterday had started melting the snow, leaving puddles on the sidewalks that had likely frozen overnight.

I crossed the street and quickened my pace to make sure I could get to the bus stop a block away before the bus. As I reached the sidewalk on the opposite side of the road, I looked up to see if I could see the bus coming down the cross street.

Bad idea.

Looking up meant that I didn't see the patch of ice on the sidewalk, and before I knew it, my feet slipped out from under me and my knee hit the pavement.

Only slightly phased, I got up and continued my  trek, successfully making it to the bus stop just as the bus was arriving. A slightly banged-up knee is a small price to pay to catch the bus, I thought to myself as I boarded. And, if that were the extent of the story, I would still agree.

Taking a seat on the bus, I looked down to find that the fall had caused a rip in the knee of my pants, and the stinging I was beginning to feel made me realize that it had probably drawn blood as well.

Ripped pants (I'll spare you a picture of the knee)

A half hour and a bus transfer later, I reached my destination and went up to my office. I reached into my pocket, only to realize that, in my haste to catch the bus, I had left my keys (and my glasses) at home. So I turned around and went straight into the bathroom, wet a number of paper towels, and went into a stall to survey the knee damage. Luckily, while there was a significant bloody patch of scraped skin, it was not as bad as it could have been. I cleaned it as best I could, and then went in search of someone who could let me into my office.

Upon getting into my office, I found the first aid kit I had stashed in my desk and patched up my knee. Then I opened my bag and took out the chicken I had grabbed for lunch to throw it in the fridge. When the container felt sticky, I knew something was not right.

Opening my bag fully, I found that the yogurt must have felt the impact of my fall, and had exploded all over in my bag. Sticky pens and paper went straight into the trash and I tried cleaning my bag and other contents as much as possible - I still think the bag might be a loss.

And now I'm writing this blog post because, if I don't, I will just sit fuming about these events for the rest of the day.

Oh, hey - if I had waited for the next bus, I would have started working a half hour ago.

Note to self: Next time - just wait for the next bus.

P. S. I won't even get into how water unknowingly spilled onto and likely killed my laptop during a flight last week, or how my dissertation right now is hanging by a thread. Maybe it's not my year.