8:17: Send text message to office receptionist: Just awoke from dream involving Zac Efron, Chuck Bass and hot sauce. Can’t decide if my alarm is faulty or I have a previously unrecognized fetish for turtlenecks which necessitated I oversleep and finish the dream. Either way, I will be late.
8:17 and 22 seconds: Response from office receptionist: That does not explain the hot sauce.
8:18: Power shower. Actually take Diet Coke in with me. I view this as multi-tasking.
8:24: Attempt to blow dry my hair. Realize that Washington, DC has three seasons: Winter, Tourist and Living In A Bajillion Degree Sauna. Since it’s currently the third season, figure there’s not much point in spending time perfecting my coif. Even with no blowout, I refuse to forgo the other elements of my beauty regimen. But time is limited and I have to get to Lawyer Utopia. In desperation, I run to the front door, grab laptop bag and do a one-armed sweep of all beauty products residing on the vanity. Time permitting, I will make an emergency pit stop in Lawyerly Bathroom to stave off Hag Look.
8:32: Locate questionably clean underwear. Recognize that laundry has become a Major Priority. Decide I should wear my panties inside out and thus maximize Girly Bits Sanitation.
8:39: Dressed. And matching. Huzzah!
8:40: More Diet Coke, the Elixir of Life.
8:42: Fly out door. Forgo elevator for stairs. It’s faster and I try to convince myself that it doubles as cardio.
8:47: Warp speed to Rosslyn. Have adopted new mantra: I can make the 8:50 Metro. I can! I can!
8:47 and 42 seconds: Stupid woman is slow poking down middle of Megascalator, preventing passing on left or right. Irritated commuters abound. Contemplate throwing something at her head but don’t have anything I’m willing to sacrifice for the cause. Instead, decide to engage in a little self-hygiene. Open laptop bag and rummage.
8:48: Realize I forgot to put on deodorant while at home. Mentally explore the logistics of public application.
8:49: There is no subtle way to put on deodorant in a Metro station. Smell prevention beats out dignity. I apply.
8:50: Tourists on Up Escalator point at me and break out camera. If I am going to be immortalized in a stranger’s Adventure In The Big City Photo Montage, I might as well live it up. Strike a pose worthy of a Secret ad.
8:51: Metro pulls into station just as I hit the last escalator stair.
8:52: Sprint! Which for me means walk at a minimally increased pace.
8:54: Apparently, Orange and Blues are delayed and my train sits on the platform for several minutes. I hop on without having to Door Dive. Thank you, Suspicious Package At Farragut West!
8:55: Text office receptionist with update: Unibomber has struck the Metro. Delays. ETA is unknown.
8:57: Continue with beauty regime and put on powder and lip gloss. Pregnant Lady offers to hold mirror for me while I attempt contact insertion.
8:58: Office receptionist response text: See you at noon o’clock. Happy travels! Don’t kill anybody in your irritation. I’ve only been in my new job for a month, yet she knows me so well…
8:59: Metro movement!
8:59 and two seconds: They were just taunting us. The train actually only moves an inch and three quarters. Time to break out the eyeliner.
8:59 and six seconds: This time the train actually leaves the station.
9:00: Eyeliner application is not going so well.
9:01: I avoid tragic eye poking incident by millimeters. Begin to weight the pros and cons of blindness over vanity. Opt for vanity.
9:02: One eye done. Pregnant Lady Holding Mirror is snickering.
9:08: Complete eyeliner application. I resemble a drunken raccoon. Decide to delay the remainder of my beauty regime until I reach Lawyer Utopia and can utilize the bathroom. I fear that if I try for lip liner, I’ll end up biting off the pencil tip and face the age old conundrum: spit or swallow?
9:12: Arrive Farragut West. Suspicious Package has lead to a Commuting Cluster Fuck. Text office receptionist: I am in a stampede of people at Farragut West. If I die, please fix my eyeliner before they bury me.
9:13: Response text from office receptionist: Noted.
9:19: Emerge from station, proceed to 17th and I. Truck passes and sends up tsunami of puddle water directly at me. I am soaked.
9:24: Enter Lawyer Utopia and proceed directly to bathroom. Office receptionist follows.
9:25: As I begin to sponge myself off, office receptionist risks life and limb to voice an opinion: You should have stayed in bed. At least you had Zac Efron. But I’m still confused about the hot sauce.