As a general rule of thumb, I’ll leave home about an hour-and-a-half before my shift at work starts.
That factors in half-an-hour or so of bus travel, setting up the room, any last minute maintenance stuff and being able to let our players in before their game starts. It’s a well-oiled system that works beautifully and, aside from Sundays and evenings, can stand at least one missed bus.
It’s pretty foolproof.
I ran a game starting at 11am today.
I happily planned my leaving time for 9.30. I worked out when I needed to get up and all that jazz. A routine that works.
I was happily dozing this morning in that sort of pre-alarm euphoria where you’ve been awake but have drifted back to sleep and know you have a good hour or more before you’re rudely re-awakened.
And then I woke up with one of those bolt upright starts you only see in the movies (e.g. the test children in Monsters Inc). My brain, while giving me weird, vivid dreamscapes, had been calculating.
11am shift. Leave at 9.30.
I’m on a pensioner bus.
The worst thing you can do, as has been mentioned before. It’s bad enough when you cross a time-threshold and the next bus stop you get to is filled with beige-clad wrinklies throwing themselves at the bus like zombies in an apocalypse piece.
But to actually willingly catch the first bus that the buggers can use from the very start of the journey? That’s a massive no-no.
I was very early for work, this morning.
Everything was done in such a rush. Shower, shave, dressed, gone.
In fact, I discovered later, in my haste this morning, I’d left the house with my underwear on inside out.
Thank god I wasn’t run over.