It can only get better...

I finish up my prayer time by Lindbergh Station - unusually early, so odds are I’ve forgotten to pray for any of you. I go right into my journaling trance and before I know it Lennox Station is being announced. Yikes, wrong train! I scurry to get up, grab my open backpack, drop it, crap falls out. I’m not quite sure what all, but I snatch up my backup pair of headphones, watch various somethings roll under a seat, pick up a loose and completely obsolete MARTA token and immediately drop it again, sling my backpack over my shoulder, audibly slamming it into a seat (thankfully not the head a fellow passenger), see a gentleman pick up that allusive token and prepare to hand it back but the warning bell of the door is sounding and I gangly, stumble out – in that catching-forward sort of stammering run - just before their closing. Damn, I wish I could have watched that scene but I suppose I’ve entertained others by actually being that spectacle.

I head southward, back to Lindburgh and transfer north to North Springs. I get off and realize, in this bright, suburban station, that I do not have the sleek black slacks that I’d intended to wear this morning but instead am wearing the slightly more casual pair of brown trousers that I’d actually worn just yesterday. A bit on the high water side and sported with black patent leather 3” heels, I’m either on the extreme edgy side of fashion or look like a complete moron. I’m not sure but I don’t think I’ll be leaving my cube today.