Buses should never be early...

The moment: finally leaving work after 10.5 hours. I'm checking my iPhone for the bus schedule. I have a 15 minute walk to the stop, but only 7 minutes until the bus arrives. iPhone tells me I'm not going to make it. I say otherwise! So now I'm running. My backpack (filled with 10 patient charts, a lap top, iPad and lunch's empty containers) is havoc on my back. My phone is in hand while my loafers are threatening to repeat the event my slippers took a few blog-posts ago. My backpack is contorting my dress shirt in such a way that I'm being strangled. Hindsight 20-20, boxers were not the correct choice of underwear options this morning. Witnesses to this feat are being ignored: I'm on a mission. I'm rounding the corner as I'm checking the phone. I have 100 yards to go and 3 more minutes. I'm going to make it! I'm going to make it! I'm suddenly proud of my adventure. I'm getting excited...aaaaand then the bus goes hurtling by...leaving me sweaty in an unforgiving, carbon-monoxide-riddled exhaust.

Hummm.

Bummer. Now I wait 30 minutes for the next one. It did, however, give me this opportunity to figure out how to use my mobile blogging app. That's not the only new opportunityeither: I'm also 30 meters directly downwind from a beach hippie smoking pot. I might just have my first high by the time the bus comes.

So there you go mainland: "paradise" isn't all it's cracked up to be! Haha.

Dear bus driver: we both know our eyes met but a brief moment as you blew by me. And might I add: you were 3 satellite-calibrated-minutes early. And your bus had only a couple people on it. Really bus driver? What else would this back-pack-flailing, dressed-up, professional-looking man be running towards other than the one and only thing along this stretch of road: the bus stop.

Mahalo for reading! I hope you enjoyed my not-so-tragic-event.

***Carol G.: this post is for you since you wanted more stories.