A Day in the Life of a University Student: Bad Bus Luck

Today was… how shall I put it… interesting. There were some very high points, some very low points and some just plain random points. Some of it has to do with being a writer, a lot with being a university student, some with being a Doctor Who fan, and everything with being me. Since there’s just so much to tell about today, I’ve decided to break this post up into three parts. Here is number one, Bad Bus Luck.

First of all, you should know that I had two midterms today. One was a psych midterm worth 20%, the other was a poetry test worth 15%. I studied like crazy for the psych midterm since I knew it was going to be hard. The poetry one, not so much. Anyways, I had been preparing for today for a long time, had gotten all my work done last night really early so that I was in bed by ten. I woke up feeling all refreshed and ready to write the tests.

Then, before I left, I sat down on my bed to pray and ask God for help on my midterms. However, I spent just a little longer on it than I had intended, so when I opened my eyes it was already 8:29, and my bus usually gets to its stop between 8:29 and 8:31. I kinda freaked out at this, so I dashed downstairs, threw my lunch in my bag, grabbed my coat, shoved my shoes on, exploded out the door and ran down to the path to the street… only to see the bus pulling away from the stop.

This is kind of a catastrophe. It’s now 8:30, and my exam starts at 9:30. It takes me approximately an hour and eight minutes to walk to King’s. If I ran I could probably make it, but there’s no way I want to show up at my exam panting from running for an hour. The other option is to sit around and see if there’s another bus I could catch. There’s two busses that go by my place, the one I usually take and another one that normally comes before it. I could wait around and see if the other bus is late, or I could start running.

At this point, I have a brilliant idea. My bus has to go through a whole subdivision before coming out again at the main road. If I run really fast, maybe I can make it to the intersection before the bus, and so I’ll catch it there. So I cross the street and start running with my laptop bag swinging around my waist and my coat billowing out.

Just then, the second bus pulls up to the stop just behind me. Great. If I had just waited a minute longer I could have gotten on that. But there’s absolutely no use waiting here now, so I just keep running, then slow down to a walk because I’m really out of shape. About five to ten minutes later I arrive at the intersection, only to see the second bus there at the other side. The light’s red, so I can’t cross over. As soon as the light changes, the bus pulls away.

It’s now 8:40. The next bus won’t get here for another half hour. If I wait for that, then I’ll miss my transfer at main campus and end up at King’s about five minutes late for the exam. Unless I start walking, there’s no way I’ll make it in time.

So I start walking. I speed-walk through another subdivision, glancing longingly at all the cars that pass, until I come up to another major road that’s serviced by about four or five different busses. I take a well deserved break, and five minutes later another bus shows up going east. I grab that, ride it for about two stops, then get off, dash across an intersection and take a north going bus up to campus. Once there, I wait for about ten minutes until a shuttle comes, which takes me to King’s. Arrival time, 9:18.

Despite missing my bus and ending up taking three different busses and walking way too far, I got to campus only about twenty minutes later than I usually do. In the end, it didn’t work out that badly. It just doesn't make sense; I nearly missed my exam because I was praying for help on the exam. How ironic is that?