The worst part, was that Wednesday night, I took it upon myself to go to sleep earlier and make it to work early so I could leave early. Thursday morning, everything was in my favor - after a round of playing dress up, a pain au chocolat and a cafe con leche (super international breakfast) later, I was out the door in record time and with a mission: to make it to La Defense on time to give my boyfriend his work badge. Traffic was smooth, a glimmer of sunshine warmed my heart and I found a seat relatively early in the ride.
Seven minutes after disaster struck, I was finally at Etoile and made a run for the RER, which luckily for me (or so I thought) was pulling up to the quai. Shoving people out of my way and squirming through the madness, I managed to find a tiny spot at the foot of the train's stairs and was standing as patiently as I could waiting for the doors to close. The conductor announced a passenger "incident" at La Defense was holding the train back from leaving. Feeling like the extra sardine in a can or a T-shirt in one of my heavily packed suitcases, I made a run for Line 1, which was just as heavily perturbed.
Three trains passed by without any hope of my getting on and my boyfriend called to tell me not to worry about the badge. Thirty minutes, what felt like an eternity later, I was on the train to La Defense, and still nowhere near getting to work! Way past the morning rush, I had to wait ten minutes for the bus to come by and get me to work more than an hour late.
Mornings like these, you learn to hate the word "incident" and wonder if it's not a better idea to turn around and stay home! Luckily it was Thursday and not a very busy one at the office - with Friday and the weekend on the horizon, moods were easily lifted.