Late to work

Not that I critically had to be in at a particular time, but I did arrive later than intended at work this morning.

I could have blamed the late train.

I could have blamed the previous train that I just missed.

I could have blamed the crowds of tourists walking slowly in the arcade from the station to work.

But really there’s no denying that it’s because I slept in.

I slept in because I was up late the night before.

I was up late because I got home late.

I got home late because dinner ran late.

Dinner ran late because the group of people I was with got to dinner late.

Which was because we chose to travel from Flinders Lane to New Quay in possibly the most cumbersome and time consuming way one is able to travel from Flinders Lane to New Quay. We ignored numerous travel options, including the frequent trains that would have taken us most of the way there, and the free trams that would have taken us all of the way, virtually door-to-door (at least two of them passed us along the way). Instead we walked part of the way, took a tram a few blocks, then walked a lot more (including an adventurous stroll across the pedestrian bridge and around Telstra Dome trying in vain to find ramps up and down to accomodate a pram).

Did I mention this dinner group was a bunch of public transport advocates who should really know better?

Oh well, dinner was good — the Italian place in New Quay that I can never remember the name of, don’t know the address of, but I could lead you right there. A little wine, a whole bunch of chicken parma and a huge chunk of chocolate cake with ice-cream for dessert. Burp. Probably just as well we did all that walking first.