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Just... no.
Nov. 18th, 2014 07:50 amI woke up around 4 AM to the sound of the cat barfing. I reluctantly got up and searched around, but couldn't find it. Went back to bed - but not to sleep, because Galen crawled up my chest to purr and groom my face. This is a standard post-barf thing for him; I assume he wants reassurance after the awful throw-up, and also to get the taste out of his mouth.
I try not to think about the last part.
Despite not being able to fall back asleep before the alarm, I got up around on time and got ready to leave. That's when I discovered where Galen had barfed: on my work bag. Specifically, on the strap. The one I throw over my head.
...yeah. I spent a few minutes cleaning everything, including me. And quietly cursing the cat. Finally I got out the door. Feeling a little blah I decided to take the bus if I timed it right.
Normally I walk the mile to the BART station. It's flat and generally not too skeezy (depending on where the bums are passed out, but at least I don't have to deal with gang members). If I am feeling lazy I can occasionally catch the bus at the base of the hill to BART instead. This doesn't happen often; I try to walk most of the time. Also, that bus goes past the union hall so they have a tendency to run... somewhat irregularly. I assume they turn off their transponders so they can take smoke or beer breaks. You can't trust the "next bus" listing. Getting to the base of the hill and seeing "next bus: 33 minutes" might mean 33 minutes or it might mean 3. Or 50.
However, getting to the base of the hill and seeing the rear view of the bus is a pretty good indication. By how much did I miss the bus? Maybe thirty seconds. How long did it take to clean up the cat barf? A few minutes.
Not the best start to the work day.
I try not to think about the last part.
Despite not being able to fall back asleep before the alarm, I got up around on time and got ready to leave. That's when I discovered where Galen had barfed: on my work bag. Specifically, on the strap. The one I throw over my head.
...yeah. I spent a few minutes cleaning everything, including me. And quietly cursing the cat. Finally I got out the door. Feeling a little blah I decided to take the bus if I timed it right.
Normally I walk the mile to the BART station. It's flat and generally not too skeezy (depending on where the bums are passed out, but at least I don't have to deal with gang members). If I am feeling lazy I can occasionally catch the bus at the base of the hill to BART instead. This doesn't happen often; I try to walk most of the time. Also, that bus goes past the union hall so they have a tendency to run... somewhat irregularly. I assume they turn off their transponders so they can take smoke or beer breaks. You can't trust the "next bus" listing. Getting to the base of the hill and seeing "next bus: 33 minutes" might mean 33 minutes or it might mean 3. Or 50.
However, getting to the base of the hill and seeing the rear view of the bus is a pretty good indication. By how much did I miss the bus? Maybe thirty seconds. How long did it take to clean up the cat barf? A few minutes.
Not the best start to the work day.
