Only One Reason to Like Mondays

And that's because I was born on one.

I spent the morning bitching at my dad (oh, my stars, did I just swear in the printed word??) because we can never leave the house on time. "On time" to me, by the way, is 0545. That should be enough time to get to the office before my official start time of 0700 and give us time to deal with whatever problems we have along the way.
We never leave the house at 0545. We come downstairs from dressing at that time and still need to get tea or water, gather lunch and breakfast, find coats, bags, and badges, and then get out the door. This can usually be by 0558 or after 0600. Leaving at this time will make me late. Period. If something happens on the road (like an accident in our way or something) I will be later.

Maybe dad doesn't care about what time we show up at work, but I care. They can and will fire me for it. Dad is on salary, so it doesn't seem to matter what time he shows up. They're not going to give me any leeway despite the fact that I've got 50 miles to go to get to them, so I need to get to them on time.

Now, I know this seems like I'm ragging on dad, but I can't be ready by 0545 most days either. I've got some reasons for this, but they're going to sound like excuses so there's really no point in saying them. I suppose the truth somewhere in there is that I'm not that excited about my job to care to do what I need to get there on time. But on the other hand, I also need a job and this seems to be as good as it gets.

Today, I insisted we didn't have time for tea (we didn't) nor to wash my travel mug (that had coffee in it on Saturday and I hadn't washed it yet) for water. I feel like we left the house angry at each other (additionally, I was angry at me) and feeling rushed. The time? 0558. Late.

I didn't fume over it, 0558 should be plenty of time to get to work with a couple minutes to spare. The moon was bright and beautiful and full, and I was well on my way to arriving before 0700.

Then there was a crash. At Route 66 and the Beltway in Virginia (I get off of the Beltway at 66 to get to work). The road was closed, and backed up for 5 miles of barely moving. We decided to go around it. I was going to be late, but thinking it may not be so bad.
Then there was a crash. At Route 28 and Walney Road in Virginia (I get off of 66 at 28 and turn onto Walney Road). We forgot about it and so could not go around. All this adds up to 30 minutes of lateness.

Maybe we would have bypassed all the trouble if we left at 0545, maybe not. Maybe we would have had enough extra time to deal with all the people who seem to have forgotten how to drive, maybe not. But, despite my efforts this morning, I was late. I suppose the lesson could be that it doesn't help to be angry, especially when the powers that be were ensuring that I be late. But that lesson isn't really going to save my job.

So, tonight, we're going to try something. We're going to try to go to bed at 2030 instead of 2100. We're going to try to actually get up at 0415 instead of lying in bed until 0500. We're going to try to be ready and downstairs by 0530. We're going to try to be out the door by 0545. And we're going to leave without dad if he's not ready.

Every month, the people who are never late get on a special list and get a certificate good for 1 hour of PTO. I used to make it all the time, and since we moved to this building, I've made it only once. I wanted so much to do it this month. How's that to start off being late on the first day?

Ye gods, how I hate this place.