It all started yesterday when God commanded the wind to blow like unto a hurricane. I drove sleepily to the bus stop at 6:40 AM. As I approached the other bus-goers, a sweet Asian man shouted in broken English, "You inside! More people, more warm!"
So there was a dozen of us crammed in all spaces of the bus stop booth thing sheltering ourselves from the gale-force winds. A few minutes later the bus arrived and the Asian man shouted, "Everyone on bus!" So we all got on the bus. I mean, wouldn't you?
I fell asleep.
Forty-five minutes later I woke up to find myself not at all in the place I should be. I was on the wrong bus. The hurricane winds soon mixed with rain and snow and once I figured out where we were, I hopped off the bus and ran to the train station where I braved the evil weather in my brown leather flats and itchy nylons.
I arrived at work one hour late with wet, wind-blown hair and runny mascara.
Today I met a man at the bus stop who confessed he'd also gotten on the wrong bus yesterday morning. I expressed my sincere condolences and chuckled relief to myself. So I guess I'm not the only idiot after all.