15 Minutes (Part 2)

WARNING!
The following post contains language that may offend some readers!

Continued from this thrilling installment

I quickly returned to the lights at Elizabeth and Park – and fortunately WALK was green, so I quickly and legally crossed Elizabeth to Hyde Park South.

A moment later, I was walking as fast as I could up the long and sloping path that led back to the War Memorial.

I thought about running, but I knew that would be a disaster for several reasons:

  • I’m a fatboy
  • I sweat very easily and heavily
  • I was weighed down with a large and heavy backpack that included my notebook, my pockets-filled jacket and especially my carry bag swinging dangling from one hand
  • Beyond Hyde Park South, there was the even longer and steeper slope of Oxford Street

I can walk pretty fast, though, so I did.

*

As I hurtled towards the War Memorial, I decided that any chance of returning to the CBD and making my meeting at 12:30 was gone, which was a big shame.

To compensate for that loss, however, I decided that after I got home and retrieved my keys – if they were still there, of course – I would return to Oxford Street and unwind with lunch at a pleasant little restaurant that I hadn’t visited for some time.

That took some of the edge off of my fuck-up thus far – but of course, there could still be worse to come, and therefore no lunch at that restaurant.

No use worrying about that, though, so once again I remembered my Eckhart Tolle and focussed on getting my fat arse across the park now.

*

I made it across Hyde Park South without incident, crossed over to Oxford and raced up its slope.

Fortunately it was midday Wednesday, not Thursday or Friday or Saturday night, so Oxford was clear and I hurtled along with much ease.

Near the end of my desperate journey up that street, I crossed the intersection of Oxford and Crown where in nine nights’ time I would witness a dreadful accident.

Shortly after crossing Oxford and Crown, I passed the restaurant where soon I hoped to be having lunch.

*

A few minutes later, I finally turned into my street.

My building was only about twenty metres away down a short slope.

I hurtled straight towards it.

There was no one else about.

A moment later, I reached the front gate.

I grabbed it, prepared to wrench it open and looked past it at my mailbox –

My keys were hanging there.

I halted, and let out a huge sigh of relief.

Next, I calmly opened the gate and stepped in.

I went up to my mailbox and took a very firm hold of my keys…

…and as I pulled them out of the lock, anger returned and I snarled at myself, “Don’t you ever, EVER do something stupid like this again…”

I paused, and then for good measure I added one last word.

“…FUCKWIT!

I took extra special care as I returned my keys to my left jacket pocket, made sure they were securely inside and zipped my pocket shut.

I let out another huge sigh of relief, and then I opened my right jacket pocket and took out my iPhone to check the time.

12:13

In a few minutes, I would be sitting down to lunch…

…but then I got thinking again about the meeting due to start in 17 minutes back in the CBD.

Okay, I wouldn’t make it in time…but even so, I would only be five or 10 minutes late, and that wasn’t the end of the world.

12:13

Lunch around the corner…or being late for a meeting back in the CBD?

Finally, I yet again considered two words that had made a big impact on my life during the past four years.

Why not?

12:13

I stuck my iPhone back in my right jacket pocket – carefully – and mentally geared up for another race against time.

Then I stepped out, closed the gate behind me, and took off again back up to Oxford.

Until next time, stay well and take care 🙂

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About blackandblueman

Black and Blue Man lives in Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
This entry was posted in Action, Anger, Hope, Life Challenges, Life Strategies, My Story. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to 15 Minutes (Part 2)

  1. Pingback: Linkage is Good for You: School’s in Session Edition

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