turquoise

I experienced a strange day today.  Still getting used to my commute two days a week to a new suburb, I've been playing around with all the different public transport routes.  And sometimes they are disastrous.  Or maybe not.  Depends how you look at it, n'est-ce pas?

I SWEAR I read the train schedule last night and saw there was a 9:48 train.  So the Mr. drives me a few miles across town to the stop and I stand at the platform and wait.  And wait.  And wait.

An elderly grandmother walks up to me, as I was the only person standing at the platform, and asks me if I've seen her granddaughter get off the last train.  It was a scorcher, and I was sitting in the shaded hut sweating like a pig while trying to fan myself.  I told her there were quite a few folks who got off the last train and wasn't too sure if her granddaughter was one of them.  She saw me sweating and asked me if I wanted to sit with her in her air-conditioned car to wait for the train.  I assured her I'd be fine (not wanting to go into the details with a complete stranger how my medication makes me sweat profusely) and she wandered off to look for her.  A few minutes later a young girl new to the city asked me if she was standing on the right platform for the outbound.  I told her yes, and that it seemed like the train was late.  She then informs me that there is not another train for over an hour.  WHA!?!?  I immediately panicked.  Of course, I check the schedule again on my phone and I had erroneously (or subconsciously?) added an extra 9:48 train in my head.  The Mr. turned back around and drove alllll the way back to pick me up and drive me to work so I wouldn't be late.  I walked with the new girl and asked her if she was going to wait for an hour at the platform.  She was unfamiliar with the area and I pointed out a nice cool coffee shop for her to wait.  She thanked me, I thanked her, and we were on our way.

As I walked down to the street again, the grandmother was still walking around with her cane looking for her granddaughter fifteen minutes later.  Some weird strange force compelled me to look a block away, across the street and pointed, "Is that her sitting over there by the diner?"  The grandmother's panic turned to surprise and I walked a few difficult steps with her to the corner and she exclaimed, 'That's her!  You found her!' and continued to thank me profusely for being there to help her.

So somehow it was a little slab of destiny or whathaveyou that guided me there to that platform at that particular time.  I ended up getting to work with fifteen minutes to spare, just enough time to slam down an iced mocha, but broke two fingernails within minutes of being there.  Weird.  And it was busy busy buzzing all day so the day fleeeew by...

But the commute home was a two-hour one.  I came home to stare at the canvas I painted turquoise yesterday.  I was trying to watch a documentary about autism that I picked up at the library but for some reason I kept looking over at that turquoise I painted yesterday.  What is it about that color that grabs me?  I'm sure any qualified color theorist would have a quick answer.  But I stared at it for so long that I am having trouble picking up another color to complete the third part of a five-piece set I have been working on.  I dunno.  I guess the right time will appear again and I will just know when to continue on...