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3.3.10

The World & The Bloke Are Conspiring Against Me


When I first came to Australia, the closest I had ever come to 'public transport' was the school bus I rode on for a large part of my life. My first train experience? I cried. I'd gotten to Camberwell station to transfer to the Alamein line and no one told me that multiple lines leave from the same platform (and I didn't know any better). I was coming down with a severe cold at the time, was miserable as I got rained on and ended up taking the Lilydale line by accident and getting off at East Camberwell (one station back in the direction I'd come from).

Yeah. Good times.

Since then, I have grown a lot. I navigate the trains with ease and bum around the city trams with no stress (unless it's hot, the tram is crowded and people are stinky). Trains and trams? Easy pie. However, I had yet to navigate bus lines and didn't particularly care to figure it out. After all, I had trains and trams, right?

Well, The Bloke has been prodding me for a while to start trying to figure out the bus system so I have more options for places to go. (You'd think he's forgotten that I'm on my way to turning into an introverted, house-bound vampire.) I've been ignoring his prodding.

Until yesterday.

You see, I had an appointment at the hospital for 3.30. Usually I am so paranoid about being on time to things that I would have left at 2.30. But nooooo, I would just walk to Eastlands, catch a taxi and that would be that.

This is where the Universe comes into The Bloke's evil plans.

I got to the shopping centre and found no taxis. It was already ten after three because I forgot that it takes time to walk places. *headdesk* By the time 3.20 came around with no taxis in sight, I decided to book it to the train station (a short walk from Eastlands) and get off at East Ringwood. From the station to the hospital, it is about half a kilometre's walk, but I knew I could make it and only be a little late.

The trouble is that I didn't know it was the East Ringwood station I was heading for. I knew approximately where the station was from signs I saw the last time I headed home from the hospital, but that was it. So I asked at the station.

Do you think they would give me a straight answer? Of course not.

He refused to tell me the station - I had to eventually figure it out because he referred to the Lilydale line - because 'it's too much of a walk' and I would do much better taking the trip by bus. I mentioned my urgency and the fact the bus - after he put a timetable in my hands - takes twenty-five minutes to get there and I needed to be there...

...five minutes ago.

But nope. The walk would have just been too much for me so I had to take the bus.

I was so upset about being late to my appointment that I just got my ticket and followed his directions to get to the correct bus. I must have looked pissed off because no one would sit by me on the ride.

I did get to the hospital and I did get to my appointment a half an hour late, but even had I had to wait ten minutes for the next Lilydale train (which I wouldn't have) and still added the walk in, I would have gotten there sooner than I did taking the bus.

Grumble, grumble...

After my appointment, I decided not to wait the ten minutes for the next bus to pick me up and headed to the station to check a.) how long the walk would be and b.) for sure which station it was.

Lo and behold, about a seven minute walk (at a decent clip) from the hospital to East Ringwood station.

As I got on the train and headed toward the city to meet up with The Bloke, I decided that he and the Universe had obviously conspired to make me navigate the bus system against my will.

It's just too obvious.

On the good side, my liver function test results came back all good and they don't need to see me again! I am finally, officially all good to go after the gallbladder removal surgery.

And now I need a nap.
*Picture found here because I'm too lazy to go into the city today and get one myself.

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