Evidence that even fifty year olds have adventures

5.30 am.  Alarm goes off.  Chanting 'Leave me alone, world; I promise I am really a log' has no effect so I roll out of bed.  Am meant to be attending a meeting at a university in Birmingham, 20 miles away, instead of going into school to moderate Year 10 coursework with the rest of my department.  Bathroom freezing.  Even the soap is cold.

6.45 am.  Wait for a bus to the station so I can catch a train to Birmingham.  Sleet slaps at my face.  Bus comes on time.  Get on bus.  Am convinced that I don't need to ring the bell as we approach the station, because, surely, lots of other people will be getting off here.  Bus doesn't slow down.  No one else moves.  Feel too silly to ring the bell now.  Walk to front of bus and stand just to the right of the driver. (He can't miss me.  No one would mistake me, it has to be said, for a stick insect.)  He begins to drive out of the station.  'Are you going to stop here?'  I say.  'Only if you ring the bell,' he says, cruelly, and then he opens the doors, barely stopping the bus so I have to leap off like James Bond does off trains, only a million zillion trillion times slower and not wearing a sharp suit or cufflinks that stab people.

6.59 am. Stand in station with the freezing wind whipping round my ankles like a curse.  Think: Hm, the weatherman said it was snowing in Birmingham.  Should I check the university's website on my smartphone?  Check their website on my smartphone.  It is snowing in Birmingham.  The university is closed and my meeting has been cancelled.

7.00 am. Wait for a bus back home.  Frostbite starts in my toes.  Bus arrives.  Get on bus, thankful for warmth.  Warmth does not last long.  Am on wrong bus, going wrong way.  Ask driver to stop, and get off, trying not to meet his eyes.  He might swap stories with his colleague at the depot.

7.10 am Get on another bus, going a different way. This turns out to be the way home.

7.30 am.  Trudge home from bus stop.  Don't need a mirror to know that my nose is as red as a postbox.  Pass several of my neighbours going off to work who give me strange looks as if to say, 'Why are you only arriving home just after dawn?  Do Embroidery Club and Exercises for the Stiff go on that late?'

8.30 am.  All cosy and warm, having had cups of tea and an hour at home.  Wrap up again in woolly jumper, scarf, fleece, gloves and a determination to get to work without further mishap.  Dog poo on the pavement and icy paths make it a near thing, but I manage it.

9.00 am.  Burst into the office, going 'Surprise!' and tell my story of struggling to the station through Siberian wastes.  No one is impressed.  Moderate year 10 coursework.  Drink coffee.  Stifle yawns.

Fran knew she had got the wrong bus when the locals began to look like this.

Comments

  1. Anonymous22/3/13 17:23

    Poor baby!!

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  2. If you'd worked in my office you would have gone home, stayed there and claimed you spent the day "stuck in Birmingham".

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And there speaks a voice of pain ...

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  3. Steve and I share a similar approach.

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  4. I'm so sorry for you, but you still make me laugh.

    Love,
    Janie

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's okay. It's the laughs I'm after, really, more than the sympathy.

      Delete
  5. I think bus drivers have special training in rudeness. One I encountered this week had been on the advanced course of rudeness.

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    Replies
    1. We have a variety round here, some as nice as pie and some who don't deserve to be doing a job involving any other humans.

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  6. Oh I remember days like that. But in these retired days I now inhabit, I lie in bed and dream of days when there were important meetings to go to, and bus drivers to conquer in the freezing morning cold. And then I roll over and fall asleep for another hour or so and any longing drains out of my warm body.

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  7. Ah the Railway station......holds a few memories for me......and I think you are very dedicated sort...well done!

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    Replies
    1. Railway stations (and bus stations) are where everything happens ... I found that out years ago when I gave up driving.

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  8. Ah! I remember adventures. They happened when I was young and getting into bed, not getting out of it, at 5.30am....sigh
    Anna May x

    ps I was sure you were going to have a duvet day after all that but NO you went to work. You're a star!

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    Replies
    1. You still have adventures, Anna May ... I read about them on your VERY FUNNY blog.

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  9. When people say "You should get out more " , I don't think this is what they have in mind .

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    Replies
    1. No, maybe not, but this is what seems to happen to me.

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