I meant to write a post the other night about my pathetic experience in the parking ramp on my way home from turning in my writing portfolio.. and then I went to bed instead.
Story time:
On a dark and chilly Thursday night (my stories on Thursdays never end well), a kind friend walked with me to turn in our portfolios. I know I said I was moving on.. and I am.. but let's be honest, you'd be scared to walk alone in the dark too...
We were chatting and what not, and then there we are, a whole ten minutes after we met up back at my parking ramp for me to drive home. Now, a short interjection here... I love my schedule, I really do. Only being at the U for 2 full days and 1 short day. What I find incredibly frustrating is when traffic is so bad that I don't get to campus for over an hour after I leave my apartment, and then I'm on my way home in twenty minutes.
Anyways, we had been gone ten minutes. First, I'm pretty sure I took the wrong stairs down to the level.. and then I'm pretty sure I went to the wrong level. I walked around the stinking parking lot for almost an hour because I couldn't find my car. Then, I realized I had stupidly forgotten to put gas in my car... and so I had to do that (which, was terrifying to do downtown at night). Then, I got lost getting to 94... and when I finally (this is almost 90 minutes after originally setting out to find my car) get on 94, I realize not only had I been so nervous that I forgot to close the little gas door... but my gas cap was hanging out too... CRY.
I found an exit, pulled off and closed it... and then got lost getting BACK to 94 and ended up somehow weaving through the heart of downtown and FINALLY finding 35S.
Yup. It took about 2 hours to get home... and an hour to get up there... for 10 minutes.
A big shout out to Kyle for walking with me-- I really appreciated having someone to walk with.
Always,
H.Eilene.
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