Mercury's in retrograde

I emerged from a dream of running through airports and having no carry-on luggage and wondering what I was going to do on the long, long flight to India and had I actually checked any luggage at all and, and, and... And it was 6 am and I had to get up because it's younger daughter's first day at the independent school that's way the hell out in Nepean. Oh, crap.

The Resident Fan Boy decided to accompany us as far as the bus stop, then agreed (after I gave him one of my looks) to accompany us to the Hurdman transitway station. The #9 arrived early, but we had left early, so I reasoned, rustling through my bag for the series of bus plans I'd printed up from the computer, that we might just make the transfer to the #118 which only has a three-minute margin for error. That's when the man in the motorized wheelchair got ready to board the bus. I knew something was out-of-whack when the bus driver had to lift the ramp out by hand, then push it back into the floor. The wheelchair guy seemed to take forever to parallel park in his assigned place by the fold-away seats, then signaled the driver that he was secure. Only then did I notice that the bus driver was unable to shut the door. The bus won't move if the door's open. So I watched the driver push his orange button. Over and over. (Oh please...please...not this morning...) Then he called on his little phone. And went back to pushing the button. The RFB, younger daughter and I abandoned bus and went to a nearby hotel to call a taxi.

So that's why younger daughter and I were sitting on the school steps waiting for the school to open and eating day-old birthday cupcakes. When we finally went inside, she told a member of the staff who greeted her by name that she was nervous, so she was introduced to her teacher (who looks about eighteen; gawd, I'm getting old...) and two of her half a dozen classmates. And I had to leave her there, making my way home through the Shinerama freshman volunteers (a sure shine of early September).

To sit here. And worry. Oh please, God, let it work this time...