Went to ultimate practice last night. Hadn't been since our tournament in Milan 2 weekends ago. Here's how it went down:
5:45 p.m. Caitlin gets home from work, exhausted from a full day with kids and a late party with my classmates on Sunday night. She runs a bath; I run out for a few groceries.
7:05. Dinner! Chicken, cheesy cauliflower and bok choy. But I only have about 2 minutes to eat, because:
7:15. I head over to the bus stop with my ultimate gear. It's a cold night, and as soon as I get to the stop I consider heading back to grab a thicker jacket. But no, here comes the bus, I'll just hop on.
7:30. Wait a minute, why is this bus turning across the bridge? Aw crap. I'm on the wrong bus.
7:35. Get off the 271 and walk back over the bridge. Watch as the 23 (the correct bus) speeds down Lungotevere.
7:40. Back to the bus stop. Maybe I should just call it a night. Clearly getting on the wrong bus was a sign. I should quit while I'm ahead. After all, I'm still feeling the traces of a cold, and it's a chilly night, and there probably won't be enough to play 7-on-7 at practice, and it's nice and warm in the apartment, and I forgot to bring my book ... but oh, wait, here comes the 23. Fine. I'll go.
7:50. Hop on the 23. Phew. Right bus this time. And there's even a seat.
8:10. Off the 23, walk to the park. Lights are on, but no one's out there yet. Oh well, folks might be running late.
8:15. Still no one here. Guess I'll do some jogging.
8:20. WTF?! Guess I'll try to huck some discs from one goalie box into the other goal.
8:25. My arm is thrown out. And I still haven't made one "goal." Let's try some rollers.
8:30. Eff this. I'm outta here.
9:40. Back home. Oh, new message from Roma Ultimate: "Practice cancelled." Arg.
5:45 p.m. Caitlin gets home from work, exhausted from a full day with kids and a late party with my classmates on Sunday night. She runs a bath; I run out for a few groceries.
7:05. Dinner! Chicken, cheesy cauliflower and bok choy. But I only have about 2 minutes to eat, because:
7:15. I head over to the bus stop with my ultimate gear. It's a cold night, and as soon as I get to the stop I consider heading back to grab a thicker jacket. But no, here comes the bus, I'll just hop on.
7:30. Wait a minute, why is this bus turning across the bridge? Aw crap. I'm on the wrong bus.
7:35. Get off the 271 and walk back over the bridge. Watch as the 23 (the correct bus) speeds down Lungotevere.
7:40. Back to the bus stop. Maybe I should just call it a night. Clearly getting on the wrong bus was a sign. I should quit while I'm ahead. After all, I'm still feeling the traces of a cold, and it's a chilly night, and there probably won't be enough to play 7-on-7 at practice, and it's nice and warm in the apartment, and I forgot to bring my book ... but oh, wait, here comes the 23. Fine. I'll go.
7:50. Hop on the 23. Phew. Right bus this time. And there's even a seat.
8:10. Off the 23, walk to the park. Lights are on, but no one's out there yet. Oh well, folks might be running late.
8:15. Still no one here. Guess I'll do some jogging.
8:20. WTF?! Guess I'll try to huck some discs from one goalie box into the other goal.
8:25. My arm is thrown out. And I still haven't made one "goal." Let's try some rollers.
8:30. Eff this. I'm outta here.
9:40. Back home. Oh, new message from Roma Ultimate: "Practice cancelled." Arg.
Not a great night indeed, but note that all of that took less than 4 hours, whereas:
ReplyDelete"Caitlin gets home from work, exhausted from a full day with kids..."
Just sayin'. :)