Day 6: Breaking Point

Today I had what those in therapy call, a "breakthrough."

This morning, I had an assignment that I needed about four hours to work on. I decided I would leave and ride the bus, thus beginning work at 8 a.m. and getting most of the way done before a noon luncheon, and then I would finish afterward to meet my 'early afternoon' deadline. I left the house at 7:20. I had more than enough time to make the 8:09 bus.

I was so proud of myself! Such a calm, leisurely ride. No speeding. I got into the right lane. Life is good. Wait - where am I? Oh my gosh I missed my exit!!! The time is 7:56.

Here's what i learned today:
1) After the bus exit, it takes 6 minutes to reach the next exit to turn around.
2) When in a hurry, chance are you will sit at the intersection stoplight for an additional three minutes.
3) The metro transit bus system is VERY punctual.
4) The clock in my car is VERY accurate.
5) When the clock says 8:11, this means the bus left two minutes ago.

In fact, as I was waiting for the dang light to turn at the top of the ramp, I watched the bus get onto the freeway on the other side. No breakthrough moment yet; at this point in my day I merely though God had something against me taking the bus.

So I am determined to take the bus. I drive south to the next bus stop, about ten minutes south. This park and ride is very popular and very full. I am in a hurry; I see an express bus... the temptation is too great. I use my handicap placard that I obtained when on crutches last winter and limp to the bus. (In my defense, I am wearing a brace and I am supposed to be extra careful right now because my leg is susceptible to re-breakage because the pins just came out... Sigh. I'm a terrible person. A weak, terrible person). No breakthrough moment yet, just guilt.

I go through my day. It's a good day. I was going to leave at 4:15 p.m., when another girl at work is leaving for the same park and ride. But at 4:15 I am "just finishing up" a project for a very senior partner. I keep working. The clock keeps ticking.

Suddenly it is 5:30 p.m. I realize that the kids have a concert at 7:30 p.m. And that the daughter in particular will need my help to prepare. Oh dear. If I could magically appear in a vehicle and drive straight home, I would be fine.

As it is, I must close down my computer, go to the bathroom (hey, it's over an hour commute!), ride the elevator down dozens of floors, walk the wrong way out the building so I need to walk an extra two blocks to the bus stop, hop on a bus hoping its the right bus (I confirm with a nice lady next to me, she says it is. And weird fun fact, Gander Mountain lady from the morning bus ride is taking the same bus home with me!), text frantically and find out daughter needs to be at school by 7 p.m., realize there is no way in heck I am going to be home by 7 p.m., get to the park and ride, limp back to the car and begin commute at average 85 MPH while praying the SUV will make 50 miles on less than a quarter tank of gas, call Choir Friend (choir teacher who is also my friend) and find out it's OK if daughter is there by 7:15 p.m. (I lied, I knew daughter wasn't going to be there until just before 7:30 p.m.), discovered daughter needs to wear jeans and a solid colored shirt and NOT the cute green dress I had instructed her to put on, called husband and teenager to relay the message about the solid colored shirt(to which teenager responds, "Oh yeah, I bought one for myself at Walmart today!" ARRRGGGHHHH!), have family send text pictures of 1) daughter's current hair style, 2) a random pink shirt they found in her drawer (way to small!)and 3) her final white t-shirt look (I instructed husband where to find a t-shirt in my dresser), instruct husband to go to the concert to save us seats, arrive at home at 7:10 p.m., run into the house, find belt for daughter, tuck in her tank top, blow dry her hair, deliver her to school by 7:27, return home because I forgot the camera (as if this day isn't memorable enough!), park car (whose gas light just popped on) in friend's driveway unannounced (leaving the car unlocked with the keys on the floor; whoever steals it will get about two blocks), rush into school and to the balcony to my seat, having missed only the first two songs (neither of which feature my kids).

THIS is the breakthrough moment. I CANNOT live like this! Like the bloated sheep day of Quest #1, I endured so much emotional pain that if change doesn't happen now, it never will. Besides breaking traffic laws (speeding), moral laws (handicap placard, lies) and yelling a lot at my patient and enduring husband (the teenager told me that when he left for school at 6:55 p.m., husband whispered, "Take me with you!"), the STRESS of it all must have sheered off hours of my life.

REMEMBER THE PAIN.

Oh, and the concert was fabulous. I cried when teenager's choir sang 100 Years - ironically, another time reference. Time goes by so fast, and I certainly don't want to be spending it stressing out on the freeway. So this is it. Until tomorrow.