Now and then

When I was away, the only thing that was predictable, was that it would be unpredictable. Everyday was different. Every hostel was different. I got up at different times and used different bathrooms. Different people would walk into the room at different times. One day the light would go off at nine, the next at eleven. Sometimes I got the top bunk. Sometimes, to be different, I choose the bottom. Sometimes I would read a book to fill the gaps, other times a magazine. If I felt like leaving that day I left. If I wanted to stay, I stayed. The time was not counted in minutes, more by hours. The weeks were not identified by day. Sunday could be Monday, Tuesday felt like Thursday.

The music starts, it’s seven am. Twenty minute snooze till phone alarm. Not a minute less, not a minute more. Ten minutes for the shower, then minutes for toast. Ten minutes to get changed. Ten minutes to get out.

The forty five minute to work. I pass the kid with her dad. Different place today. Am I late or are they early? Along comes the car with huge exhaust about half way on. He must be early, I hope he’s early. Past the school, it’s quarter past. Rushing kids. I walk towards the mum being towed by her kids, the look of recognition we give each other. Into work, same again. It’s the work party that I missed that’s the buzz today. Who did what, was it true? Did James really sleep with Sue? Who’s got the photos? Who said what?

Onto lunch. Same old queue. Some go at twelve, others at two. Five minutes here, five minutes there, means the world to those that are aware. And before I know the routine has got me.