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33 minutes from bed to work

December 8, 2005

Yeah, I woke up a little late this morning. I am SURE it had nothing to do with the one glass of pinot noir I imbibed last night. The one glass that was never empty. You know the one. The kind of glass where it’s impossible to tell how much wine you actually drank because you never seemed to get to the end of it, nor did you ever ask for a refill. Anyway, back to bed…so as I woke from my slumber I did so in that I’m-not-opening-my eyes-because-it’s-just-so-glorious-lying-here-in-the-warm-bed fashion. Which is not how I usually wake on workdays. Usually there is an alarm and snoozing involved. This is when calendar starts in my head. Is it the weekend? What day is it? (important to note that my eyes are still closed at this point) I don’t know. Ok what did I do last night? Bug. She dropped me off. Wine. Weekday wine. Shit. It’s Thursday. My eyes open and dart to the clock. Double shit. It’s 8:28 am. Shit again because now I have to do math to try and figure out how much time I have. Shit gets upgraded to fuck. I don’t have ANY time at all, I was supposed to leave my house 15 minutes ago. Fuckitty fuckfuck. Now the adrenaline rush comes, which makes me feel sick and shaky. But, it is semi-quelled by the realization that the only person who cares if I am on time, my boss, is out of town. So I relax a bit knowing I can call on my way to just say that I am running late. I wash up, dress and throw a can of tuna, a v8 and some cottage cheese in my bag with some running clothes. I go for my cell phone to call work and then realize that I couldn’t find it last night when I got in. Thinking maybe I was too stupid too drunk to find it last night, I search again. Nope. No cell phone. Augh. And this girl doesn’t have a landline. So now the adrenaline icky feeling comes back and I grab my coat and run out the door. I am contemplating the time in my head, a 15 minute walk to the Metro and then a 15 minute ride if I’m lucky and there are no delays will put me in the office well after 9. With no phone call. I hate being late to work. The sick feeling comes back. I cross the street and see a bus waiting at the light. Hope. Oh it’s going to Rosslyn station. Woo! I am saved. Stroll into work at 9:01. Maybe looking a little like death on a triscuit thank god for blush and lipgloss and feeling like I got run over by a bus instead of just taking one (I think coming off the adrenaline rush is worse than the actual rush itself), but here on time! nonetheless.

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16 Comments leave one →
  1. December 8, 2005 11:20 am

    Death on a triscuit huh? Interesting… triscuits look odd enough as they are.

  2. December 8, 2005 12:19 pm

    I realized last night that you look just like the girl who plays Sophie on “Peep Show”

    Are you related to Olivia Colman?

  3. December 8, 2005 12:51 pm

    Yes, but where’s your phone?

  4. December 8, 2005 2:06 pm

    Mmm, triscuits.

    Hopefully you made time for a Starbucks trip to revive you.

    Regardless, yay for being virtually on time; I can’t make it 2 exits on the Beltway in 33 min trying to get to work.

  5. December 8, 2005 2:10 pm

    I like triscuits, so maybe I should have chosen another cracker simile. Death on a wasa crisp? Wheat thin? Ritz? Chicken in a Biscuit?

    Rich – Boo, she’s not pretty.

    MG – [tears] I DON’T KNOW!!!!!

    Nicole – So glad I don’t drive to work. Traffic makes me cry.

  6. December 8, 2005 2:28 pm

    Wait, that can’t be right because you ARE pretty….

  7. December 8, 2005 2:45 pm

    I’m impressed! You took mass transit, packed a lunch and still made it in in 30 min!

    Shit it takes me 30 min just to walk into my building!

    Gah! I’m hoping your phone has fallen in your home somewhere. Do you have a cat? My cats like to swat at my cell so it tends to travel… I hope you find it!

  8. December 8, 2005 3:09 pm

    Apparently Rich has read the “How to be good hubby” handbook. He tells you you’re pretty. 🙂 I gotta say, I thought the Olivia chick was cute. Besides the point…

    You are one of those responsible ones Mish. Again, I should rub another body part (do not insert dirty bird thinking here, I was thinking like wrist for watch area) to contract this ‘really being on time for things’ condition you have.

    Busted, Mish doesn’t ‘do cats’. She no likey the felines though the felines likey her. Maybe the Dingo ate your phone?

    Poser Mobile has great ‘pay as you go’ phone options…

  9. December 8, 2005 3:25 pm

    I-66 here campaigning against gato/telefono voilence.

    Death on a wheat thin?

  10. December 8, 2005 3:33 pm

    My cat climbs up door moldings.

  11. December 8, 2005 3:38 pm

    There I go again, fishing for compliments.

    Busted, I have no earthly clue how I made it that quickly but damn if it’s not good to know for future sleeping indiscretions.

    And I don’t think the phone is at home guys because I searched my bag like crazy so I could charge it last night…I mean it’s possible the dustbunnies are playing with it, but then I’ll never find it because they are bigger than I am.

    Cluss, you can come rub my wrist anytime.

    i-66, not the same is it?

  12. December 8, 2005 3:53 pm

    Hey Phil, so does mine? Except mine gets a running start from across the room and then sees how high on the door molding he can get to and slowly screeches (w/his claws) his way down. Catnip rocks!

  13. December 8, 2005 3:54 pm

    /?/! for above correction. Didn’t mean to ask Phil if mine did too.

    ((rubbing Mish’s wrist))

  14. December 8, 2005 6:17 pm

    I do not have a cat…I want to be rubbed… (Totally wrote rubber first)…could not find the phone…

  15. December 8, 2005 7:29 pm

    suggestions:

    phone in car?

    death on rye

    more catnip for cats

    less work for I-66

    more poser mobile commercials

    …that is all

  16. December 9, 2005 10:33 am

    Oh no not the dust bunnies!! They scare me…luckily the cats swat at those too 😐

    uhm did someone say rubbing??

    (Busted extends wrists and rubs everyone)

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