|Whiling away time at the station|
My Anita starts packing days before a trip and considers an hour early barely optimal for airports and trains. If it weren't for her, my just-in-time slacker scheduling would have me racing through the trip in a healthy panic. When I am alone I engage in aerobic traveling at its finest, which must be quite a popular sport, based on so many sprinting though stations.
Yet, this morning found me in the Ghent station more than an hour before the Puurs train. This Anitaism makes me wonder if we might be converging after all. Perhaps because we have no dog I have imprinted on her instead.
I am cruising Belgium solo these days. So that train station pause was not her doing. I had glanced at the clock and rushed out of the flat, thinking I had only moments to spare. I seem to be unlearning how to tell analog time or Anita nudged that clock way fast for her own flight home. Either way it made for a leisurely pace at the station. I enjoyed an excellent apple cake and a cappuccino as I watched the parade of travelers.
|A tiny blue sign marks the Mechelen rabbit hole|
Three minutes might be a long time to hold one's breath but not nearly enough to stumble around asking questions and make a connection. I could have easily taken an earlier train from Ghent and allowed more than three minutes. But my just-in-time slacker scheduling had me lingering over that leisurely breakfast. This un-Anitaism makes me think that that converging stuff is unlikely.
|What fun to play these beauties|
We need a dog.