Lots of excitement for not much result.
I went to bed an hour late, bad move. I had helped the boy study thermodynamics (no, I have no idea either, he just gave me some notes and asked me to check if he remembered things right) and that seems to have thrown me off.
As we have already established, it doesn’t take a lot to throw me off.
The other thing was that my phone displayed a message that there was an issue with the battery and to make a service appointment for a new one. Sure.
I woke up first myself and then half an hour later the boy who was supposed to show up at uni for a lab safety briefing. I went back to bed and wrote morning pages. And then I got stuck. And felt unable to open the manuscript. I was already late (as usual) and decided to eat breakfast alone in peace instead of the rest of my morning routine.
And so I did.
My husband and I then had a lovely and very long conversation about our respective morning routines. He wakes up between 6 and 7 and wants to eat breakfast at 8. I wake up around 6.30 and then want to write morning pages, spend some quality time with the manuscript, do yoga and meditate before I eat breakfast.
If there was no transition time I would need about 90 minutes. Perfect!
But wait. What I really need is 90 minutes plus the time it takes to actually become awake, use the bathroom three times or so, open the windows, close the windows, set the table, get everything out that we need for breakfast including thawing some blueberries, carry my stuff from the kitchen to the bedroom and back, weigh myself, dress myself, open the computer and wait until it’s all booted up, change to reading glasses and back, turn the TV on and unroll the yoga mat, search for the yoga video and start it, roll the yoga mat up again afterwards, plus – and this seems to be essential – check email briefly twice or so, and accidentally start reading something online.
So. We’ll both be aiming for 8.30 from now on. Wish me luck.
After that it was already a bit late so getting ready for an epic round of errands got a little hectic.
I packed my backpack, changed into actual jeans, told my husband I was ready to leave, fought with my phone and earbuds so they played what I wanted to hear and was off.
After all that hectic I was 10 minutes too early at the train station and then the train was late. No worries, I would still have 20 minutes to renew my prescription before the doctors office would close for lunch. Enough time for that doctor, another prescription renewal, then the health food store there, taking a train back, go to the supermarket where I buy yogurt, to the pharmacy and the the health food store in town.
Great.
I left the train, walked to the doctor’s office, decided to take my insurance card out before getting into the building and sensed that something was off.
I didn’t have my backpack.
Shock!
I remembered stamping my ticket before getting on the train and that ticket lives in my wallet so it was clear, I must have left my backpack on the train!
What to do?
The backpack itself was not much of a loss but my wallet. With all the cards, my ID, my driver’s license and quite a bit of cash.
I walked back to the train station. I couldn’t do anything about prescriptions without my insurance card. I mean, I could have because there is a way to show the card from the app on my phone but, well, I didn’t want to deal with that as well.
I tried calling the lost and found but didn’t succeed. I had to top up my phone card as well. Which I did.
I tried figuring out if I could catch the exact train I had used again for my way back. Maybe the backpack would still be there?
I realized that I didn’t have a train ticket. I thought about buying a new one with my phone.
I searched through my pockets for some reason and found – the ticket I had stamped before.
Huh. So the ticket had not been in my wallet after all, it was in my coat pocket.
So, if the ticket had not been in my wallet in my backpack, then maybe – I had not left the backpack on the train but instead – at home?
I thought about calling my husband on the phone but he doesn’t answer the phone. Not the landline and not his cell.
I took the next train back home. As the train doors were closing I realized that I had forgotten to stamp the ticket for my way back. I decided that if I were checked I would break into tears and tell the whole sorry backpack and wallet-story.
On my way I texted my husband and asked if I had left my backpack at home.
I was almost back home before I got an answer. Yes! The bag was sitting on the kitchen bench.
Phew.
I went straight back out after coming home, to buy yogurt and groceries. Since there was no more time for the things I had gone to the next town over for I’ll have to do those another day.
My husband had made risotto which we ate a little late:
Then I had a long teaching day, ate dinner, did Duolingo, actually watched a bit of C-drama and went to bed.
And today I will take a train in the other direction so that my phone can get a new battery.
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