Monday, September 8, 2008

Neuron Pong

I have this mental image that, when the human brain is firing on all cylinders (as it were), you've got little neurons just sending signals all over the place.  Little electric charges just going off all over the place, full of energy.

And then there's me, when I haven't had much sleep, and all that activity is replaced by a single neuron slowly travelling around in there, like a game of pong.

That would be this morning -- which (seeing as London is 8 hours ahead) started off an insanely long time ago...

Actually, it started last night, when I was packing, and (and I truly have no excuse for this) ended up watching some Bollywood musical on the BBC.  (I'd never actually seen one of them, and I was curious.)  But the damn thing kept going till 2:30, and it's hard to pack and read subtitles at the time.  So I was kinda up, y'know, late.

Woke up at 7:30.  I was meeting a friend at 10:00.  Here's the plan:  Out of hotel room by 8:30; taxi to Paddington Station by 9:00; buy cat-sitting friend the Paddington Bear she'd asked for; leave bags at Left Luggage; grab some eats; take underground to place where meeting friend, arriving a good 15 minutes early. (OK, we're meeting at the Doctor Who exhibition.  Shut up.)

Here's how it actually went down:  Out of hotel room by 8:45 (that's OK; I had extra time built in the plan); in taxi to Paddington ... when about 5 minutes outside of Paddington, my one functioning neuron pipes up and says, "You left your passport in the hotel safe."  I ask the taxi driver to turn around.  ("Are you sure it isn't in your bag?"  I'm sure.  I know where it is.  It's in the safe I didn't open.)  Much cursing on my part.  Back to hotel, get passport (hey! my camera was in the safe too!), back to Paddington.

OK, now I'm late.  Now, it's 9:30, I have no Paddington Bear, and there's a line at the Left Luggage place. 

I amend the plan.  Move Bear purchase to later.  It'll still work.  More or less.  I dump my luggage and get the train to the Doctor Who exhibition all of 10 minutes before 10.  At about 10:05, the train reaches a stop and the pre-recorded voice says "Exit here for the exhibition."  And my neuron says, "No, I think you'd be better off waiting for the next stop.  I'm pretty sure we read that.  Someplace.  About a week ago."  I decide to trust my neuron.  Turns out it is correct; the second stop drops me right at the door of the exhibition.  (Yay!)  Where my friend has been waiting.

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