Alarm bells ringing

My morning ritual is robotic. I wake up 30 minutes before the bus leaves, which gives me just enough time to do the necessary preparation and tea drinking. I may be a bit rushed as I jump out of the shower, but I have always managed to catch the one bus there is to where I work. A few times I have had to chase it down the road or throw myself in front of it, but I had never missed it. Until last Friday.

The circumstances were somewhat complicated by the fact that it was my turn to bring in lunch (the Brits have a lunch club at work) and I had failed to buy enough items the day before. So I left the house extra early so I had time to pick something up in the bakery. There were already three women in the queue when I arrived, but I still had plenty of time. Waiting in line like a patient Englishman, I watched the first one order a whole tray of croissants, the second woman took one of every type of bread they made, and then I almost cried when the final lady pulled out her cheque book. I exited the bakery with my two pain au choc and looking at my watch I realised I had missed the bus.

The next working day, on Monday morning, I was awake bright and early after a rare early night. I had buckets of time and so I got ready in a more dreamy than robotic manner. I left the flat in what I assumed to be ample time, and gently made my way to the bus stop. It was gone.

Missing the bus once made me feel human, but twice in a row set alarm bells ringing. I tried to blame one of my prankster friends as I thought someone must have tampered with my clocks. However, the truth of the matter is that I am too dreamy of late! Last night I had a good yoga session and I think this has refocussed my mind. I have managed to catch the bus today, but only time will tell if I have enough sati to last the rest of the week.