Once again, my plan to pull an overnighter at the library failed. It used to be the ever grumbling tummy or the contact lenses bugging me, but this time it was the winter cold/flu messing with my brain. That’s when I started reading the top of the page and the beginning of the paragraph over and over again without making sense out of it.
The early part of the night was fine, apart from the occasional Facebook distraction I was cruising smoothly along the first part of my Physical Chemistry coursework. At half-past ten, I could feel my eyes sort of “dry up”. Prepared for a pyjama party in the library, I took out my contact lenses mini-kit and switched the vanity lenses for nerdy specs. Fifteen minutes later my nose started running. Then, I was sneezing at regular intervals. Not good. I went through the bus schedule online and decided I was still in good time for the last bus home, which was due 23:23.
On the bus from university to town, I noticed the driver was driving the vehicle really slowly. Initially I thought my perception was fooling me (as it often does when you’re in a hurry and everything just seems to slow down) but when I timed its journey from university to the bottom of the hill, it took longer than usual, considering there were not many passengers and nobody boarded the bus during the journey. I had half the mind to tell the driver to step on the accelerator, but decided against it.
When the bus stopped at the stop just before the one which I will be alighting from, and Indian/Bangladeshi/Pakistani hopped on and inquired the driver whether he has seen his bag he left behind. The driver gave him a minute to look for it, but the bag was still not found. The Indian/Bangladeshi/Pakistani mumbled something to the driver and the driver said something back. I wasn’t listening to their conversation because I was busy checking the time. The clock continued ticking and the Indian/Bangladeshi/Pakistani still has not found his bag. I remembered him asking the driver if he was going to drive back to the same stop, but after that I everything was in a flurry as I dashed out of the bus.
I was in the middle of a 100 metre sprint to the main bus station (where I’ll be taking another bus home) when I started swearing “F’ck that idiot!” At the same time I was praying hard the bus has not departed. Meanwhile, the bus which I just left still haven’t moved yet. I thanked God for my decision to abandon ship.
As you may be able to tell, I am not a very good sprinter. Never was to begin with, as I am more of a long distance runner. Slighted winded, I got on the bus sixty seconds before the driver drove off. Stamina level on the low end, but still sufficient for chasing the last bus home.
Got home safe and sound. Texted my girlfriend letting her know I’m OK. Microwaved some Italian passata and toasted some left over pittas, stuffed it with mozzarella and had a nice warm supper. Started coughing like mad, drank water, downed a generous helping of honey, brushed teeth, changed to pyjamas, jumped onto bed, did some blogging, and now hopefully I can wake up with a clear head tomorrow.