Wednesday 20 January 2016

Punctual People

I have a severe affliction of OneMoreJob-itis, GreenLight-itis (or Travel Utopia) and AllThoseFiveMinuteJobsAddUp-itis.

Or dare I say, I had?

Today I had a hospital appointment booked for 9am. Anybody who knows where I live and the location of my local hospital six point eight miles away, will know that if you cross your fingers, have a good wind behind you, an impressive grasp of alternative car parking spaces and leave home at around 4am, you'd be unlucky not to make it in time.

I decided to go on the train.

I toyed with the idea of catching the 8.22 as per my normal way of being. The train would arrive at 8.36 (no, punctual people, of course it wouldn’t be delayed), the one point one mile walk would take twenty minutes, thus leaving me with a couple of minutes to check in at the well-staffed, all systems working like clock-work desk for Out Patients.

But today I decided that I would step away from living on the edge and just for once, I'd take the earlier train. Even with delays, I'd still have time to walk over the slightly further but very much drier path rather than run/walk in heels (hey! I'm five foot two on my tip-toes, people tread on me if I don’t wear heels), with my cross over bag tossing like a caber on my back, over the shorter (as the crow flies) muddy fields.

Besides, if I got there early I could have a coffee and do some writing. And that, dear readers, is how I come to be writing this blog post now.

I confess I did run onto the train from the station for my out-bound journey, which is only three minutes from my house, (well actually, it's forty seconds, providing the road you're trying to cross has been blocked off or it's FA Cup Saturday) but once the train had arrived perfectly on time and I'd begun my walk, I experienced something new.

I walked fairly briskly, I'm not sure 'sedate' is really in my psyche, but without even a whisper of needing to do my run/walk. I stepped without adrenalin pumping into my feet or angst puncturing my every thought that I might be late. I walked over crunching frost and noticed the blue of the sky. I enjoyed the cold air on my face with my hands nestled deep in my favourite gloves, without concern I might be sweating.

I arrived at the hospital half an hour in advance of my appointment, bought myself a take-out coffee - no queue – decided I'd have time to get my blood test done – no queue – which I'd originally planned to do after the 9am appointment and probably would have forgotten until I was on that return train home. I checked-in, took my seat and my pen and paper from my bag and am now waiting for my appointment. Let me say that again: I am waiting for my appointment.

Punctual people, I get it now.