There is nothing more frustrating than being late by only a few seconds. I think I’d prefer to miss something by a mile than be tantalised with the possibility of catching it if I could only move a little faster…
This morning I fought my way through a crowd of school children only to watch the doors of my train close and then stare at it in frustration for the next thirty seconds as it sat in front of me preparing to depart. Deep frustration. Smug train attendant doesn’t make it any easier to respond in a way Jesus would be proud of.
My brain started whizzing back through the events of the morning that brought me to this unhappy occurrence. Deciding to put my hair up nicely therefore leaving a few minutes later than normal. Discovering half way that I’d dropped my favourite cardigan and retracing my steps until I found it. Trying to catch a train half an hour earlier than normal but not factoring the school rush and how hard it is to fight your way through a sea of bodies.
To be honest it’s too early in the morning to be frustrated for long. I’m waiting for the train I always catch rather than the earlier one and it’s not so bad. I have time to blog and I’ll try to catch the train attendant’s eye and give him an apologetic smile for my initial huffing and puffing.